Dice, Camera, Action!: Aftermath - Season 5
by Wramysis
Summary: We know that the Crew were next destined to visit Avernus, but what secret purpose might have driven them there? Will they escape Asmodeus's notice, or become bound to him more tightly than ever? What roles do Shemeshka and the Umbra still have to play? Until we get an official version, this is my own take on a possible 'DCA: Season 5'.
1. Familiar Faces

A.N.: So a plot for this new series of chapters is slowly coming together, though I won't pretend to have it all figured out yet. I was already writing this before the 'Descent Into Avernus' module was released, based on the small amount of information that had been revealed in interviews like the 'Lore you Should Know' segments on the D&D YouTube channel, as well as older D&D lore such as from the 'Baldur's Gate' games. I sort of do a mashup of old-lore and new lore, such as what Chris Perkins did with the Waffle Crew as he took them through Barovia. I wanted to have this story still be somewhat plausible in terms of where Chris might take the Crew next, and yet still deviate somewhat from the books so as not to be too spoilerish. Yet it's impossible to move forward in this story without having *some spoilers* for the new module, so _you have been warned_. Also, given that we only have a few hints from Chris about his plans for the hells, and the fact that I've tied together most of the open DCA plot threads already in the first 'Aftermath' series, I'm going to be stuck making most of this up from here on out (however, I will still try to incorporate the episodes in Acq Inc with Evelyn in them). I will also try to stay in continuity with the C Team, but keep in mind that at this point in the story, Lathander is still a prisoner of the Sanguilith.

* * *

Evelyn looked out at the shining city in the distance, its tall white walls a stark contrast to the shadowed wilderness in which she now stood. And yet the large orb of blinding flames that hovered far above its towers, like a second sun, cast its protective light for miles across the countryside. Evelyn imagined that if they had only made camp just a little further down the hill, she might have been able to feel its warm glow upon her face.

"Ye part o' some paladin company out of Elturel?" asked the wagonmaster, joining her at the viewpoint.

His assumption wasn't surprising, given Evleyn's attire, but it always pained her to have to explain her new situation. Ducking her head, she answered simply, "No, I'm not a paladin. And this is my first time here. I only wish we were a little closer to that light."

The man sucked his teeth. "Pretty, aint it? A gift from Amanuator, some say, to all the righteous orders that live in that city. But it's more trouble than its worth, when the light keeps ye from catching any sleep. No, we'll camp here tonight, then move on to Elturel in the morning."

_Amanuator._ Evelyn had never previously given much thought to the Heresy of the Three Faced Sun, and yet it had now become one of the tenets of her faith that she clung most tightly to. If Amanuator's light could persist here the entire time Lathander reigned as the Sun God, _then_ _he_ _had never truly disappeared!_ By that same token, even with the interloper Krisperkins now taking Lathander's place, a part of her god surely remained in this world. Even if everyone else abandoned him to follow the new Dusk God, Evelyn would never give up her faith. What if her prayers were the only thing keeping Lathander alive? No, even if she could no longer act as his paladin, Evelyn swore she would never renounce him.

"Is the caravan stopping at Baldur's Gate afterwards?" Evelyn asked, as the wagonmaster began to turn away.

"Eh?" he said, looking over his shoulder at her in surprise. "Nay, none o' the merchants in this group would go anywhere near_ that_ place. Even with you and your friends and the rest o' the security we've got, they'd likely get half their wares stolen before we even passed through the front gate." When he saw the disappointment on her face, his expression softened and he said, "I'm sure you'll find some river captain in Elturel willing to take you there. Otherwise there's the road; it aint that far."

Evelyn nodded her thanks, then walked back to the circle of wagons where the others were gathered. It reminded her a little of the Vistani camps they had visited in Barovia. Not surprisingly, Paultin seemed right at home, offering to entertain the merchants with his music whenever they made camp. Evelyn often added her own voice to his bagpipes. Just the day before, she had revealed to him her private decision to also become a bard, as it would be a new way for her to express the light inside of her. Rather than chastise her as she had feared, Paultin had actually begun giving her pointers on her panpipe playing.

When he saw her approach the campfire, he scooted over to make room for her on the log someone had dragged over. She smiled at him and took out the panpipes he had returned to her. She had been touched that he had kept her present safe throughout all the adventures they had gone though since that sorrowful day she had prepared herself to join Lathander forever. She now refused to dwell on the possibility that maybe that had been her last opportunity to ever see her god again.

* * *

Paultin smiled and shook his head as the merchants passed wine skins around the fire, although he was in fact clenching his jaw shut with every shred of willpower he had. He couldn't afford to get drunk. Somehow, he had become their group's strongest protector. He dearly missed the days when he could goof around and not have to worry about anyone else, because he knew that Evelyn's axe, or Diath's wit, or Strix's magic could take care of any problem. He was just the backup; the comedy relief, who hung out with the party more out of boredom than any sense of duty. And yet slowly, more and more responsibility got dumped onto his shoulders. The burdens of leadership were what had driven Diath slowly mad, Paultin was sure of it. Towards the end, the poor guy couldn't even make any decisions, and Paultin of all people had become the voice of reason. But now, who was going to lead them when it was Paultin's turn to go insane?

Paultin's eyes turned to Simon, who was sitting on a rock close to the light of the fire, reading van Richten's journal. Paultin had tried reading it on the start of their trip, but it was filled with boring descriptions of odd rituals and medicines and monster life cycles that put him to sleep. Simon said that the stories reminded him of Barovia, so Paultin let the boy take it. No, he's not a boy anymore, Paultin reminded himself, looking at his son's well grown physique. It still irked Paultin a little that Simon had not become a bard, despite once telling his father that it was his dream. Paultin supposed it was sort of his own fault, since he hadn't been around during most of Simon's childhood to teach him. Now that _Evelyn_ had expressed an interest in music, he felt obliged to teach her, though he felt she should have tried to multiclass into something more martial. After all, how many bards does a party really need? he secretly wondered.

_*Bards are fun to play*_ said the voice in his head. Paultin couldn't really argue with that logic.

He saw Evelyn approach, and let his current song die down so he could have a few moments to instruct her. She took out her panpipes and began to head over, then cocked her head at something towards the woods. Paultin had already stopped playing, so the area was relatively quiet, but he still hadn't heard anything surprising. Almost trance-like, she began heading away from the group.

"Sorry folks, _brb wc_ and all that," he said, and tapped Simon on the shoulder as he passed. The barbarian noted the worried expression on Paultin's face and quickly put the book away and began following.

Evelyn's flying boots set a quick pace that caused Paultin and Simon some difficulty as they had to weave through the thick underbrush. When she finally stopped in a small clearing, it took a few moments for them to catch up, at which point they heard a familiar voice address her.

"I'd have thought by now you'd realized by now how risky being a werewolf was, Evelyn."

The ex-paladin continued to look dazed as Paultin and Simon emerged from the trees. To their surprise, they saw a figure standing before them, its face hidden within the shadows of Manshoon's cloak, holding a small silver whistle in the shape of a wolf. The voice, however, was unmistakable.

"Diath," Paultin nodded at him warily, sidling quickly to Evelyn's side. "Not sure how I feel about seeing you in that cloak."

The rogue stretched his shoulders, letting the fabric fall open to reveal a dark blue tunic and cloth pants. It was odd not seeing him in leather armor, and without Gutter at his side or his trademark amethyst pendant. His green eyes narrowed as they took in Simon and his condition. "I guess this must be Murderbot. You grew up rather quickly."

Paultin's son pulled Treebane from his belt. "I never really understood that nickname, or why you never seemed to like me very much, Uncle Diath. But you should know that I'll do my hardest to protect my family from you, and that includes Shard and Shem."

Diath grimaced. "You're out of your depth. Go take a nap while the adults have a chat." Then to Paultin's amazement, Diath put out his palm and out of nowhere, Handrew plopped onto it with a pinch of rose petals Paultin knew came from his own stash. Diath gripped the severed hand and spoke the incantation, and Simon suddenly fell to the ground, snoring. Paultin was about to kneel down to wake him, but Diath warned, "Don't touch him. I think it's only fitting, don't you, that he experience what it's like to be hit by one of his darts? Anyways, this won't take long."

The bard frowned as he stared at Daith and Handrew, unsure which betrayal hurt him most. "I guess what they said about you going crazy on Sigil is true then. Is that where you learned magic, or is it the cape?"

Diath shook his head. "Let's just say I was bound to pick up a few things, being around you magic users for so long. Plus the full benefits of this cloak aren't unlocked unless you're a sorcerer, warlock or wizard."

Paultin sighed. "I should have held onto it a little longer then."

"Well, it all worked out in my favor. Walnot passed it onto the Six, and they gave it to me as a sign-on bonus."

Very discretely, Paultin put his hands behind his back and began to summon his magic. Chris Perkins was instantly at the forefront of his mind, offering his power, but this spell needed no extra help. To keep Diath distracted, the bard remarked, "You know that the Six use people, right? They just want your life energy to work their crazy contracts."

Diath shrugged. "That's all anyone _is_ to people in this world; a means to an end. Apparently that's all Strix and I were to Asmodeus - a way to combine a celestial and infernal soul and make a host body for him to-"

Paultin joined his hands together in a clap, aiming them straight at Diath. The thunderwave projected outwards with enough energy that it was actually a visible force, even before it started tearing away the nearby vegetation. Handrew scuttled quickly to safety, but it hit Diath straight on... and dispersed without any visible effect.

"Good to know the cloak works," Diath said, before calmly carrying on with his monologue, as if Paultin had not just tried to kill him. "The Six got me in touch with Dran Enterprises, who apparently also have a beef with Omin. But the interesting thing about Dran Enterprises is that they've spent a lot of time researching this thing called the Sanguilith." Paultin felt a stab of dread as Diath pulled out a small glass jar containing an amethyst crystal. "They were very excited to have the chance to study my K'thrissmas gift, and tell me how I could use it to control those who have been tainted by its power."

Paultin's eyes darted towards Evelyn, who still seemed in a trance. He began to shake her, hoping she'd come out of it, but at that moment Diath began blowing into his whistle. Paultin couldn't hear anything, but Evelyn winced in pain.

"Stop it, you're hurting her!" Paultin cried, looking imploringly at Diath. "Evelyn cares about you; she doesn't deserve this!"

Diath paused long enough to answer, "Evelyn made this choice. She has only herself to blame."

The ex-paladin's body suddenly twisted and sprouted a thick pelt of white and golden fur. Her salivating jaws snapped at the air, and she lashed out towards Diath with long black claws. Diath held out the jar, and the crystal seemed to emit a faint pulse of amethyst light. Evelyn took a step back and whined.

"Interesting. Even with Lathander a slave of the Sanguilith, it seems Evelyn is able to resist its control. No matter; I have my own slave to take care of her."

Something large and gray burst out of the bushes and launched itself at the werepom. Paultin stared at the creature in disbelief. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, a much larger and even older version of Waffles was now attacking Evelyn. The odd thing was that one of its legs was completely covered in amethyst crystals. Paultin wanted to help, but the two creatures were thrashing so wildly that all he could do was drag Simon away to safety. He looked back to where Diath had been and saw that the rogue had now vanished.

A whistle that Paultin could actually hear came from deeper in the woods, and Waffles instantly tore herself loose from Evelyn and raced back through the trees. The werepom seemed to brace itself to pursue, but then staggered and gripped its head. Slowly, Paultin watched as the fur receded and its body shrank back into Evelyn's old form. She panted and held onto a nearby trunk for balance.

"Did I scratch or bite you or Simon?" Evelyn asked worriedly, ignoring her own injuries.

"No. Do you know what the hell just happened?" Paultin asked angrily. He took out his wine flask, which sadly hadn't held wine in weeks, and poured the water over his son's face. Simon finally opened his eyes and sputtered.

"I heard a kind of whistle, and then something seemed to take control of me. I saw Diath, but I couldn't really make out what he was saying. And then I heard the whistle again, only that time it hurt me and I felt myself transform. I thought I could control it this time; I thought because it was a blessing and not a curse, that it wouldn't be like the other times-" Evelyn broke down and began to cry.

"It's not your fault mom, Diath had that magic whistle. I think I remember it now - it came from that underwater chest he found with Critter." Simon reached out to give her a hug, and she smiled at him gratefully.

They began to hear sounds of activity coming from the direction of camp, and the three of them exchanged worried glances before dashing back through the woods.

"Diath's gonna be after Shem!" Simon reminded them, racing ahead. Paultin was already going as fast as he could. He might not be as invested in protecting those two strangers as Simon and Evelyn were, but Diath had definitely gotten under his skin tonight, and Paultin was hoping for another shot at him.

When he finally emerged from the trees, he saw that most of the merchants and teamsters were massed around the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley and the city where they'd be heading tomorrow. Paultin had already taken in the sights earlier, and while he admitted it looked fairly impressive, he wasn't sure why anyone would still be staring at it now.

And then he realized that something was indeed different. The glow that had emanated from the sky over city was now gone. As Paultin approached the viewpoint with Evelyn and Simon in tow, he could see that indeed, the entire city of Elturel was missing, with only a deep crater left in its place.

"Horrible, isn't it?" asked Shem, coming up alongside them. "We just now noticed the light missing. There was no meteor strike or collision or any warning. The city was just suddenly _not there_."

"I sense fiendish magic," whispered Shard, her golden eyes darting around the campsite suspiciously. "That orb did more than offer light; it repelled evil for miles around."

"Did either of you happen to spot Diath or Waffles around camp?" asked Simon in a low voice. The two looked at him in wide-eyed surprise.

"We were ambushed just now," explained Paultin with a growl. "I don't know if Diath could make a whole town disappear, but I have heard that the contracts the Six use can do some crazy stuff."

Shard looked at Shem worriedly. "If Diath is here, he might be coming after us to reclaim the Lorcatha soul."

"All right everyone, the wagonmasters have decided we're striking camp tonight and heading back to Daggerford," announced the leader of their caravan. "Whatever madness is going on here, we're getting as far away from it as we can."

"But wait, shouldn't we alert someone?" asked Evelyn, surprised at their response.

Some of the merchants stared at her, while others pointedly avoided her gaze. One of the caravan guards patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't be too hard on 'em. If a whole town of paladins can get wiped out just like that, what good can any of the rest of us do?"

"What if there are still people down there who need help?" she asked stubbornly, reminding Paultin of the time she had insisted on returning to Port Nyanzaru after the explosion. Back then, Paultin and the others had managed to convince her to stay, although it had required manipulating her to feel guilty about all the other times she had brought them into danger without thinking.

"All right, screw the rest of these guys. Let's go down there and see what we can do," Paultin suggested. He turned away so the others wouldn't see him blush as Evelyn threw him a bright smile of appreciation.

* * *

As they neared the crater, they were faced with the troubling realization that there wasn't going to be anyone left to rescue. Beyond the city walls, even the farm sheds, shepherd hovels, and the entire length of the fisherman's wharf had also disappeared.

"This reminds me of what my mom said Shemeshka had told her about Ash Town, that city that got pulled into hell for the signing of the Skizziks-Lorcatha Accords," Shem muttered softly.

Shard shook her head. "That makes no sense. This was supposed to be a city of light; a beacon of goodness for the entire region. What possible use could devils have for it in hell? It would make more sense to just destroy this place."

Simon gave her a hard nudge in the ribs with his elbow, then pointed his chin towards Evelyn, who looked sorrowfully at the desolation around them. She had set her heart on offering help in this disaster. The fact that there was nobody left to save only made her feelings of helplessness worse.

Then suddenly they heard a shout coming from the river. Out of the cloud of fog, they saw a silhouette approaching. _"Ho there! Are you all right?"_

Evelyn waved her arms wildly and called back, "Hey! We're ok! Do you need help?"

They saw a single man break through the mist. He carried a long staff and an odd brown tunic wrapped around his body, with a green symbol tattooed on his forehead. When he saw their party, he moved surprisingly quickly to join them.

"I am Marcus, one of the Avowed of Candlekeep. My Master the First Reader sent me here to investigate this calamity. Did you see what happened?"

"We were camped up on that hill," Shem said, pointing back towards their old camp. "We saw the light of the Companion until about an hour ago, when suddenly everything went dark. There wasn't an explosion or any sound of attack. We've been looking for survivors, but you're the first living person we've seen since we got here."

Marcus's sharp eyes examined both Shem and Shard closely. "I sense dark magic afoot here, and you yourselves are shrouded by strange powers. I think it might be wise for me to take all of you back with me for questioning."

"Hold up, what gives you the right to take us anywhere?" Paultin protested. But the strange man began whirling his staff, and as he did so, the mists began to close in around them. Simon half-hoped they were being taken to Barovia, but as the fog suddenly lifted, they found themselves standing in the middle of a stone bridge arching over a deep ravine. Before them was a set of immensely tall green doors, with a stern-looking guardian standing watch beside them. Like Marcus, he didn't seem to carry any weapons other than a staff.

"Keeper of the Emerald Door, these people witnessed the calamity at Elturel. I am bringing them to the First Reader for questioning."

The door guard grimaced at them, then rapped at the door with his staff in a specific pattern. The great doors slowly swung open, and Simon and the others gasped as they saw endless rows of towers poking out of the mists. Marcus led them down a long stone path, across courtyards, ramparts, and small gardens. Simon could see his parents occasionally whisper to each other, and wondered excitedly if they were going to try to break out. He had never fought a monk before, but he had confidence Treebane would easily turn their staffs to splinters.

Finally they were led to an ominous building with jet-black walls that gleamed like obsidian. Marcus bid them to wait in the courtyard, and entered alone.

Simon immediately turned to the others. "What should we do?"

Evelyn fingered the Heart of Spinelli, but didn't draw it. "They haven't asked for our weapons. I wish I could still _detect evil_ and find out whose side these guys are on."

"What side are _we_ even on?" Paultin asked. "We have no idea what mess we're involved in here. What the hell even is this place?"

They heard someone tsk behind them, and everyone spun around in surprise. Hunched over and gripping her staff, seeming like the most frail halfling in all the world, was Rosie Beestinger. Another monk stood beside her, wrapped in dark black robes, with their face hidden in a cowl. The staff they clutched looked familiar, etched with strange glowing green runes along its shaft.

"Paultin Seppa, you are standing before the Hall of Shadow, deep within the library fortress of Candlekeep," intoned the elderly grandmother. "You'll find weapons to be useless here, as well as your magic. Only your wits and skills will protect you, assuming you still have any. But don't you fret, you're about as safe here as you'd be in Sigil. Isn't that right, dear?"

And then the hooded stranger beside her lowered her hood. Strix Beestinger looked shyly down at her feet, as everyone else began to shout in surprise.


	2. Revelations

"What in the-" was all Paultin could muster as he stared at the monk standing next to Rosie, who had lifted her hood to reveal an all-too familiar face.

"Strix!" cried Evelyn, floating towards her friend with her arms outstretched. But the first to reach the trash witch were Shard and Shem, wearing mixed expressions of relief and concern as they clung to her. Tears of joy rolled down the tiefling's face. It then struck Pultin, as he watched the mother and son side by side, just how much they looked alike. Strix's horns were longer of course - even more so than the last time Paultin had seen her, but her features were otherwise mostly unchanged. It was odd seeing her in something other than her usual tattered robes and pointed hat, however.

The bard overheard Shem urgently whisper, "Mom, you can't be here. What if Asmodeus finds out?"

Strix shook her head, but at that point Evelyn couldn't hold herself back any longer and forced her way past the two youths to wrap her arms around Strix in fierce hug, squealing in joy. Strix grinned awkwardly and patted her friend on the back, then met Simon's gaze, who smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

Paultin hadn't yet figured out how he himself was going to handle this unexpected reunion. He had always felt sympathy and a kind of 'brotherly affection' towards Strix. Part of it might be their shared Barovian background, but Strix had also seemed the most naive and vulnerable of their group, and the most likely to get hurt without someone looking out for her. Sure, Evelyn-and at least back then, Diath-were all too happy to take any physical hits aimed her way. But sometimes Paultin felt the one thing Strix could really use was honest, nonjudgemental advice. She had done the same for him once, warning him when his drinking was putting the group in danger. He had later tried to repay the favor by talking her out of her anxiety and paranoia, convincing her to keep Manshoon's items rather than toss them out of fear and guilt. Most recently, when he realized that Strix had been banished to Sigil only to be left abandoned in the Feywild, Paultin's gut reaction had been to immediately look for a way to rescue her. Frustratingly, those strangers then arrived and insisted that he and Evelyn stay behind to protect them, instead. Even if Paultin had wanted to ignore that request, Waffles had disappeared with Diath's amulet-the only way they had to reach Strix. Yet now, by some miracle, there Strix stood, safe and alive. Paultin saw his hands automatically reach out towards her, but as she was still being constricted by Evelyn, he settled for resting one on her shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly instead.

"We wanted to go rescue you from the start," he said to her in a low voice. "You know that, right? I wouldn't have let you be alone again."

Strix smiled up at him, her eyes glistening. "I know, Paultin. You did the right thing. Shem and Shard needed your help more than I did."

Shard turned away from Strix to look down at the elderly halfling, who had silently observed all of their exchanges. "You said this place was safe?" she asked, looking around to see who else might have been watching.

Ignoring the question, Rosie Beestinger took a step towards her and aimed the tip of her staff at the rag-garbed woman. "Are you my great-grandchild?"

Strix yelped and hastily babbled an apology. "Oh no, Grandma Rosie, that's Shard - I met her in the Feywild at Grannie Yaga's hut. My son is actually this guy, Shemeshka, or Shem for short." Strix chuckled nervously and dragged Shem in front of the halfling.

"Oh yes, I can see the resemblance," Rosie remarked as she examined him, her eyes lingering a long moment on the fox-headed sword at his waist.

Paultin was curious how the awkward situation was going to unfold, when suddenly his own son barged in on the conversation.

"Hey, are you _my_ grandmother too?" Simon asked excitedly, kneeling down beside the halfling. "I just met my two grandpas, but I don't think I have any grandmas yet!" He did a double-take as he seemed to recognize her. "Hey wait, I know you! You made me and Dad those sweaters for K'thrismass!"

Rosie's eyes widened, then she reached out and grabbed Simon's cheeks, stretching them. "Is my memory failing me, or weren't you a puppet?"

Simon grinned and happily explained how he had been polymorphed and then traveled to live with Strix in the Feywild, where he finally grew up. Paultin listened with only half an ear, wondering suddenly whether it was wise to be sharing all this information with the mysterious old halfing. Didn't Rosie have some kind of connection with Asmodeus? He remembered the two having a deep conversation towards the end of the battle at Nightstone.

_*Oh yeah, she was there*_ confirmed the voice of Perkins in his mind. _*She kissed his ruby rod and he agreed that Rosie could adopt Strix into her family and circumvent the Ashtown Accords, even though that meant she would no longer be a Skizziks and tied to Asmodeus. Don't you think it's curious that Strix is still a tiefling, though? And she still has her sorcerer powers, which are connected to the Lord of the Nine Hells. I wonder why that is, hmmm*_

_*If you know what's really going on, just come right out and say it*_ grumbled Paultin at his patron, but not unexpectedly, Chris had chosen that moment to _afk_. Paultin sighed and listened instead to whatever explanations Rosie was now telling the group.

"...After I found in her in the Feywild, I decided to bring her here to the monastery at Candlekeep for safety, and to learn some of the _Way of the Shadow_ to protect herself. If she becomes the head of my family some day, she'll need all the help she can get to keep those miscreants in line," she grimaced.

"Hold up, didn't I _just_ see you in space?" Paultin asked, surprised that the halfling had been able to track Strix down so quickly.

Rosie shrugged her muscular shoulders. "I'm sure it has something to do with time flowing differently between the planes. I'm not K'thriss, dearie; I don't waste time trying to understand how Chris Perkins and the rest of those wizards make the universe work."

Paultin felt his jaw drop. "You just said _Chris Perkins_. You know who that is?"

Amazingly, the halfling waved the matter aside like it was unimportant. "I met him once. Nice man; fixed us up after that mess with the Omu curse. After his magic got Omin and the others out of diapers, he fixed our ride and got us home. I wish he was here, though; now I'm going to have a hell of a time finding a way back to the Homeward Star system. We were just about to reach the Sanguilith when-"

Rosie instantly vanished. Strix yelped and jumped back, and the others stared at the spot where the halfling had once stood, dumbfounded.

"Oh no, the Sanguilith!" Evelyn exclaimed. "I was with Rosie when they were fighting it! That's when Lathander... but wait, didn't that already happen? Or maybe it's still supposed to happen? I'm confused."

_*This is why crossover timelines are such a mess*_ sighed the voice in Paultin's head. _*Anyways, don't worry-I sent Rosie back to the place and time she's supposed to be. I never would have heard the end of it from Kate, otherwise_*

Paultin had given up trying to make sense of any of it regardless. They all turned as they heard the door of the black building behind them squeal open, with Marcus stepping forth and calling out, "Come, my master awaits!"

* * *

Evelyn followed the others inside. Though she was still in human form, she could almost feel her hackles rising in response to the occult power she could sense in the air. As she followed the others down the dark corridor, she tried to linger in the small pools of light cast by dying torches placed along its walls. Yet their glow flickered wanly, birthing even greater shadows at the edges of the darkness. Evelyn's eyes were constantly drawn to things she thought she saw moving there, but reassured herself they must be tricks of the light. It reminded her all too much of the eerie places in Barovia, the Shadowfell, and even the tunnels beneath the Undermountain. It was not a pleasant feeling.

"It's meant to do that," Strix said to her reassuringly, patting her arm. "The monks use shadows as part of their magic. It took me a long time to get used to."

She glanced over to Strix, still amazed to see her friend back with them. But was this really a good thing? As much as Evelyn wanted Strix to stay, it would be far worse if Asmodeus was now able to reach her. And what about Strix's child, the one Evelyn and Paultin had been tasked to protect? Shem had wanted to accompany them to Baldur's Gate and solve the mystery of Paultin's wife's murder, but the more stories Evelyn heard about that dangerous city, the less she thought it was a good idea. And now they had learned that Shem's own father was also out there somewhere, plotting ways to take back his soul. Evelyn had still not brought up Diath's return to Strix, unsure how to break the news to her. Judging by the group's silence on the matter, it seemed that no one else had thought of a good way to do it either.

As Evelyn puzzled it over, she noticed that Marcus had led them up several flights of stairs until they stood at what Evelyn assumed was the top floor. In single file, they followed the monk through an ornate door until they found themselves in a large domed chamber. Chairs were placed in a circle facing the center, where a strange design was carved into the floor. Seated in the only occupied chair was a red-skinned tiefling woman, watching them silently as she stroked a green creature curled in her lap.

"Is _that_ the master you serve?" Shard hissed at Marcus, drawing a hidden knife from her sleeve. "You accused us of using dark magics to destroy Elturel, but I have never sensed a greater concentration of fiendish power than in this very room."

The monk shook his head, and before Evelyn could react, another figure stepped out from the shadows and grabbed the knife out of Shard's hand. A tall elderly human now stood beside them, and looked down at Shard angrily.

"_I_ am the First Reader, charged with protecting this citadel from harm. Know that we have but one law: that those who destroy knowledge-with ink, fire, or sword-are themselves destroyed."

Simon had pulled out his own axe, but Evelyn shouted at him to put it away. She had no idea how powerful these people were, but she didn't want to be forced to battle them here on their home turf. Simon grumbled but acquiesced.

The seated tiefling hadn't reacted at all to these events, but now she calmly nodded to them and introduced herself. "I am Sylvira Savikas, archmage and expert on devils and their ilk. You have nothing to fear from us."

Shem glared at the man who still hovered over Shard. "People keep telling us we're safe here, but we were taken against our will, and now you openly admit to working with fiends!"

Slyvira stood up suddenly from her chair, causing her familiar to squawk and leap to the ground. "And Who are _you_ to accuse me? Do you think I'm blind to the nature of that sword you carry? Tell me, whose side are _you_ on?"

"Enough!" cried the old man, slamming his staff against the ground to silence them. "Sylvira, do you sense the taint of evil in any of these folk?"

Evelyn sniffed in indignation, ready to protest that she was a paladin...until she remembered that she no longer was. She looked at the archmage nervously as the red tiefling approached them and looked into each of their faces. Evelyn worried that there might still be something left of the Sanguilith inside her. But Sylvira passed Evelyn by without any reaction, and finally announced, "No, First Reader, their souls remain their own."

The old man sighed. "Then we are no closer to learning what happened to Elturel. I must therefore assume that your initial theory was correct, Sylvira. Only an archdevil's contract would have the power to pull that holy city into hell."

Paultin threw Evelyn an uneasy glance, and she remembered that Diath had appeared just before the city had vanished. He had mentioned joining up with some group called the Six.

"Um, let's say hypothetically that we knew someone who knew someone who could do dark magic with contracts. Is there any way _that_ could be responsible?"

"Do you mean documancy?" harrumphed the First Reader in disapproval. "That distasteful art practiced by Acquisitions Incorporated is one of the primary reasons our Shadow Council has a team dedicated entirely to surveilling their activities."

Evelyn had been about to mention that the Six seemed to know about documancy too, but she was shocked into silence by their implication that Omin's company might be doing anything nefarious.

"Acquisitions Incorporated has no reason to be involved in this," said Sylvira, earning a relieved smile from Evelyn. "They have no holdings in Elturel or hell, as far as I'm aware. No, this act has Zariels's fingerprints all over it. She never forgave Elturel's champions for abandoning her Blood War crusade, and now she is taking her revenge." The tiefling's gaze fell over the group once more. "You all claim to be on the side of good. Would you travel to Avernus to rescue the innocents trapped there?"

Paultin noisily cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but we've already spent an entire season dealing with annoying side-quests like this one, which keep distracting us from accomplishing a mission central to my character arc. So I'm afraid we'll have to give this one a hard pass."

Evelyn reluctantly nodded, since she had also promised to help Paultin, despite every fiber of her being urging her to go rescue those poor people. In the back of her mind, she also remembered the speech Paultin had given her when Port Nyanzaru had been destroyed and she had wanted to go back and help-that doing so was also putting herself and her friends in danger. And then there had been Zaress's words to her on the Celestial Plane-that it was okay sometimes to make selfish decisions for herself, because Lathander also wanted Evelyn to be happy.

"Then I suppose you will be going alone, acolyte," said the First Reader calmly to Strix, who stared back at him in wide-eyed fear.

Shem turned to the man in disbelief. "Wait a minute, you can't send her there! Asmodeus is after her!"

The old sage folded his arms. "Unlike her mentor Rosie Beestinger -who I see is no longer among you- Strix is _still_ a member of my order, and I am within my rights to command her as I see fit."

"Well that's no problem, she'll just quit!" huffed Paultin.

"I wouldn't advise that," said Sylvira sternly. "Our shadow magic may be the only thing masking her presence from Asmodeus. If we remove that protection, he will come for her the moment she leaves these walls."

"So you're blackmailing us then," grimaced Evelyn in disappointment. "And yet you claim to be on the side of good."

"The purpose of the Shadow Council is to collect and preserve knowledge, not to take sides," explained Marcus hesitantly. "However, there was a faction among us who chose to use that knowledge for their own ends, hoarding it so that only the rich could afford their secrets, even going so far as to make deals with the hells."

"Lemme guess, they're called the Umbra," Paultin said with a heavy sigh, "I just knew Chris was going to find some way to tie this in with my story."

Sylvira looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I don't know how you learned that name, but yes. We try to avoid speaking of them, as their very existence shames us, but if they are indeed involved in what happened to Elturel we cannot continue to turn a blind eye. We must repair the damage they have done, and for that, we need to send a force to Avernus."

"Don't you have others you can send there instead?" Evelyn asked, remembering all the well-muscled monks she had just seen walking the premises. "It seems a little risky to send Strix alone... _though I'm sure you'd do an awesome job!"_ she added quickly with a smile, not wanting to insult her friend. But Strix forcibly shook her head in clear disagreement.

The old sage looked abashed. "Even though we can no longer order Rosie Beestinger, we _were_ hoping that by sending Strix, she would feel compelled to go as well. But perhaps you five are suitable replacements."

"No, you can't send the kids!" Strix insisted. "Shem doesn't have shadow magic, and he'll be targeted the moment he's in Avernus." She then turned to Evelyn and Paultin and implored, "You need to keep them safe. Please promise me you will!"

Paultin growled. "You can't split us up again, Strix. You can't let them get away with it. Fight back!"

"_I_ will go with Strix," Shard said, surprising the newcomers with her mystical voice. She turned her golden eyes to Shem. "You will try not to do anything reckless while I am away, yes? You are still in great danger if they find you."

Shem clenched Gutter's handle eagerly. "They'll regret it if they do!"

Shard shook her head and sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Hold on, I can't just let Strix and Shard go there by themselves!" Evelyn cried. "I'm still a servant of Lathander. To let you two go alone into hell without any other protection-" But what about her promise to Paultin? She turned to look at the bard uncertainly.

Paultin smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up. "You're right, you should go. Simon and I will keep an eye on Shem. We'll stay here and read some books and be totally safe, right kids?"

Shem frowned and looked at Paultin suspiciously.

Strix seemed ready to argue, but Evelyn put a finger to her lips to silence her. "Nuh-uh, Strix, don't try to talk us out of it. Honestly, I think this arrangement is the best we can hope for. And besides, there's something I need to look into that I might just find the answer to while I'm down there." Paultin looked at her curiously, but Evelyn avoided his gaze. She hadn't yet found a way to bring up to him her suspicions that the first puppet they had named Simon had also had his own soul, and that it might now be trapped in the hells. Evelyn had to find out for certain.

Sylvira nodded to them grimly. "Very well, those of you who are going - follow me into my tower. I will give you instructions and open a portal for you there."

"The rest of you can follow me to the library," smiled Marcus. "I'm certain we will find something to keep you occupied until your friends return."

The First Reader, Evelyn noticed, had already disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Paultin, Simon and Shem followed Marcus down multiple gardened paths until they finally came upon what must have been the largest tower of the complex. "This is the Great Library," the monk explained, leading them to the gate, where a stern guard watched them expectantly. Marcus suddenly wore a troubled expression. "I had forgotten; entrance is normally granted only to those who bring a literary work that contributes to our collection."

Paultin snorted. "Well, so much for that. Not that I was expecting to find anything interesting in there, but it would have helped pass the time."

Simon, on the other hand, looked crestfallen, and Paultin remembered how much his son had seemed to enjoy reading about his _grandfather's_ adventures. Wait a minute...

"Hey Simon, do you still have that journal?"

The young man pulled out the leather-bound book, clutching at it tightly. "Wait Dad, we can't give this away. It belonged to Grandpa Richten."

"That's_ Rudolph van Richten,_ vampire-hunter extraordinaire, Barovia's leading expert on multiple families of monsters. Why, can you_ imagine_ the secrets in this journal? It should be more than enough to get us into this place, wouldn't you think?"

The guard grabbed the book out of Simon's hands and flipped through it carefully. With a grunt, he handed them a coin stamped with the image of a small castle and a flame, and stepped aside to let them pass. Marcus bowed to him, and quickly ushered the party inside.

As Marcus began droning on about the library's history, explaining the layout of each floor and how many important people had lived there, Paultin found himself staring at the symbols on the coin. He didn't like strange coins; they reminded him of the moss-covered token those thieves has left behind when they had murdered Sandra. Only they hadn't exactly been thieves, since Paultin had never found anything missing in their home. But now, seeing the castle and flame in his mind, he remembered seeing them once before, on the covers of three books Sandra had kept in their bedroom. They were part of her private things and he had never bothered to ask what they were about or where she had gotten them, but now that he thought about it, he realized that they were not in the apartment when he had returned there. Who would bother burglarizing a home just for books? Yet listening to Marcus talk about how precious their library was, Paultin was beginning to get an idea of their possible value. What had Sandra been doing with three books from Candlekeep? And then there was the fact that Sandra had learned to be a monk, but Paultin had no idea who had trained her.

These questions were still running through his mind as Marcus took them to what was apparently the star attraction - the section of arcane books and prophesies on the gods and the workings of the universe.

_"Daaaad,"_ whispered Simon nervously, pulling his attention to someone seated at a desk looking over an old scroll by the light of one of the magical lamps placed around the room. At the same time, Paultin could hear the ring of Gutter being pulled out of its sheath. The sound immediately drew the reader's attention, who smiled as he recognized them.

"Took you guys long enough to get here."

Paultin grit his teeth as he greeted the man. "Hello, _hokage_."


	3. Devils' Bargain

A.N.: It was recently Spurt's birthday, so I thought it appropriate that this chapter feature another of Chris's beloved characters.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

"This isn't so bad," commented Evelyn with a forced smile, as she took in the sunless red sky, the parched cracked earth, and the blood-colored river nearby. "It's nice and um..._ warm_," she finally remarked, having searched long and hard for something positive to say about Avernus. But it seemed that Strix was not actually in need of cheering up, as she excitedly ran up to Evelyn carrying something wrapped in her robes.

_"Ohmygosh,_ Evelyn, look at what I just found!" the trash witch squealed, thrusting something towards her. "It's like some kind of hell chicken! Isn't it precious?"

The ex-paladin looked down at the strange featherless creature, whose legs did indeed resemble those of a chicken. But rather than a face, its cone-shaped body ended in a sharp snout with far too many teeth, from which a long tongue flicked in and out like a snake.

"I don't know if you should be picking up random things off the ground here, Strix. You never know if it might-_ oh!"_

The beast's body split open lengthwise to form a pair of wings, which it flapped angrily in an attempt to free itself. But Strix ignored its squawks and scratches and began cuddling it even tighter.

"I'm going to name you Flappers!" she cried happily.

They both turned in surprise as they heard Shard shout from somewhere nearby. As Strix and Evelyn wove around the thick trunks of trees growing along the river, from whose branches Evelyn spotted more of the chicken-like creatures, they finally spotted their black-garbed companion. Evelyn gasped in amazement as she took in what Shard was now pointing at.

Hovering in the sky hundreds of feet above them was the city of Elturel. It was perched upon a large mound of rock, as if someone had literally scooped up the city and whatever ground was beneath it and transported the entire thing to this other plane. Evelyn had no idea what kind of magic was keeping it afloat, but there were enormous chains sticking out from the river whose ends seemed embedded into the island, as if keeping it from escaping.

"That's Elturel all right," noted Evelyn grimly.

Strix groaned. "I was afraid you'd say that. That place is covered in dark magic!"

Shard appeared to be examining the nearest chain, which rose out from the water so that at its lowest point on shore, it was still ten feet from the ground. With a sudden leap, she managed to grasp the edge with her claws and pull the rest of her body onto it.

"Careful Shard, we don't know what's up there!" Strix cautioned.

The strange woman sniffed at the chain and even appeared to lick it, but eventually shook her head in dismay. "This isn't ordinary metal, and I doubt even magical fire or weapons will be enough to break it."

Evelyn floated up to Shard's level, then lifted her gaze to the island above them. "Those monks may be worried about the city, but what I care about are its people. We need to get up there and make sure they're all right."

Strix pulled out her staff and with a quick incantation, converted it into a broom. She settled onto it and also rose into the air. "Shard, do you think you can climb that chain safely? Evelyn and I can already go have a look."

The woman in black nodded, and very deftly began scampering up the giant links. Strix's broom quickly outpaced Evelyn's magical boots, but the trash witch waited until Evelyn had reached the top before she herself dared set foot on the island.

The place looked deserted. Some of the buildings had taken heavy damage, and many of the wooden doors had been splintered open. Beyond the rooftops, Evelyn could see scattered clouds of smoke slowly drifting into the air.

"Hmph, this place looks like there should be bodies around, but I don't see any," commented Strix in what sounded like disappointment. Evelyn knew her friend well enough, however, to know that Strix simply enjoyed collecting interesting things off of corpses.

They traveled deeper into Elturel, and the ex-paladin began to fear that just like at the crater in Faerun where the city had once stood, she would find no survivors here. But then she heard something - a strange voice coming from one of the alleys. Evelyn urged her boots forward, noticing a large pile of rubble in the direction she was heading.

As she approached, she was able to make out the words: _"Hells an' tarnation_, I knows I smelt sumtin' alive in thar. C'mon out, damn you!"

An imp was tossing aside large chunks of broken masonry and debris that had fallen from one of the rooftops. It continued to curse and mutter to itself as it worked, until finally Strix caught up and spotted the small fiend, letting out a small shriek of surprise.

The imp spun around and immediately began shouting, "Finders keepers! Salvage rights! This 'ere soul's mine!"

Evelyn drew out the Sword of Spinelli. "I don't think so," she told it darkly, and the imp actually flinched.

"Do I knows you?" he asked, peering up at her anxiously. "Your voice sounds awful familiar."

Evelyn was crestfallen at what she perceived as a very personal insult. "You think my voice is awful?"

"Who cares what it thinks, Evelyn! It's just a stupid imp!" growled Strix. But then the little devil began examining the trash witch as well.

"Oh hey, I recognize you! I di'nt think clones would end up downs 'ere when dey died, you have'n no souls an' all."

Now it was Strix's turn to be taken aback. "Clones? What makes you think-"

"But don't go thinkin' it's my fault you died, neither! I was the only one who tried to stabilize you after you gots in dat fool mess with the dinosaur. An' den those other clones decided to betray the Sewn Sisters and attacked me, and I ended up back 'ere!" The imp shook its head despondently. "They haven't summoned me back, so I guessin' dey be blamin' it all on poor Umpox. Well screw 'em! I'm sick of servin' hags anyways."

Evelyn looked at Strix in confusion. She knew that her friends had fought off their clones back when she was in Lathander's realm, but they hadn't mentioned anything about an imp. Strix also seemed momentarily uncertain, but just as she was about to speak, Shard appeared beside them, having finally caught up.

"What's this about hags?" she asked, turning to Strix.

Umpox made a squeak of fright. "T'weren't me! Umpox would ne'er say notin' bad about his old mistresses, no ma'am!"

Looking at Shard, Evelyn realized that the other woman might indeed pass for a hag, with her yellow eyes, clawed hands, and dark rags concealing her face and body. For that matter, Evelyn wasn't all that certain Shard _wasn't_ a hag. Hadn't Shem said they had met at Baba Yaga's hut?

Something began to move beneath the rubble Umpox had been uncovering, and Evelyn hastily got down on her knees and began digging through the pile. A small girl, covered in dust and scrapes, slowly emerged. Evelyn at once began casting _cure wounds._

"Hey, ahms da one who founds it first! Salvage rights!" cried Umpox, hovering possessively over the child.

Shard took a step towards him, and the imp quickly shied away. "This isn't a shipwreck. You can't call dibs here, particularly when it involves a person!"

Umpox hawked noisily and spat. "Like hells I can't! Dems the rules in Avernus. An' you don't wanna be breakin' no rules 'ere if you knows what's good fer ya."

"What if you let that _hag_ have it as a gift?" Strix suggested, and Evelyn realized that Strix must have had the same train of thought she did. Luckily, Shard also seemed to catch on quickly.

"Yes, that would probably be wise," the strange woman agreed with a menacing growl.

Umpox gulped. "Lookie 'ere, a lil' devil like me's gotta make a livin' too! Hows 'bout we makes a deal?"

"What kind of deal?" Evelyn was quick to ask, remembering being warned about fiendish bargains during her paladin training.

The little creature grinned. "Welp, even tho I says ah di'nt want to serve dem hags no more, yous and me mights be able to make some kinda arrangement. Hows 'bout I agree to serve as yer familiar in exchange fer a piece o' your soul?"

Strix cried out in alarm. "No, bad idea! Don't do it!"

But Shard seemed surprisingly undeterred. "Let me see the contract."

A roll of shining parchment magically appeared in the air in front of her. Evelyn could hear Shard muttering aloud as she read it over carefully.

"Strix, would you mind handing me your quill?"

The trash witch moaned worriedly as she changed her broom into a black feather with green ink dripping from the end. Shard took it and to Evelyn's surprise, wiped the ink on her sleeve and proceeded to prick her own finger with the pen, dipping its tip in her blood.

"How about we change this line to say this-" suggested Shard, making marks on the scroll and forcing a frowning Umpox to fly up to her and look over the changes she made, "-and remove this wording here; it's far too vague and could lead to misinterpretation. And since neither of us knows how this deal might pan out, how about we allow an escape clause so that it can be terminated if either party finds it unsatisfactory?"

The imp grumbled something in Infernal, then nodded and pressed one claw on the parchment, causing it to glow. "Fer a newcomer to Avernus, ye sure aint as gullible as you look."

Shard read it over one last time and finally signed her name. The contract immediately vanished. Turning to the imp, she smirked, "And I'm sure you're not nearly as stupid as you try to sound."

Umpox looked at her warily, then smiled.

Evelyn felt very uncomfortable with what had just happened. Her first instinct on seeing any fiend was to destroy it, but now without her paladin senses, she had a hard time discerning evil intent. Strix had yelled at Evelyn after she had killed that rakshasa in Waterdeep who had pretended to be a man, telling her it was wrong to kill so indiscriminately. That memory was the only thing that had kept Evelyn from attacking the imp the moment she had spotted him. But now, seeing the frantic look on Strix's face, Evelyn wondered if the trash witch might have made this case an exception.

* * *

Paultin had a hard time believing that Diath was truly standing there, right in front of them. He remembered how eager he had been to get payback from Diath for having threatened Evelyn and Simon in the forest, and yet the Batman cloak had nullified Paultin's most powerful spell. The alternative was melee combat, but Paultin wasn't too eager to engage the rogue at such close range. How then, was the bard supposed to take him down? Looking over at Shem, Paultin could tell that the fighter-sorcerer was having similar thoughts, wielding Gutter in a white-knuckled grip.

Rolling his eyes, Diath inquired, "Are you in the habit of drawing steel on strangers, particularly in a place where violence is forbidden?"

Noticing the weapon, Marcus made a sound of outrage. "No! There is to be no fighting in the Library!"

Shem grit his teeth, but lowered his sword. "You've made a mistake letting this man in here," he told the monk. "This is Diath Woodrow, a thief with no soul."

"Yes, thanks to you," said Diath darkly. He stood up suddenly from the table, causing everyone to brace themselves. But Diath merely closed the book he had been reading and rolled up the parchment where he had been taking notes, passing it to Handrew who then disappeared into his cloak. His gaze focused on the magical sword.

"I suppose you're the one who told him who I was, huh Gutter? I'd warn you against summoning your mistress for help. I may have been forced to hand over the book on arcanoloth lore to this library, but I still remember Shemeshka's _true name_."

With those words, Diath proceeded nonchalantly towards the exit. It took a moment for it to register to Paultin that Diath wasn't going to force a confrontation. Nevertheless, was it okay to just let him escape? Paultin hurriedly moved to block the thief's path, using his extra height to his advantage. "What did you come here for, if not to fight us?" he asked him warily.

"I came to collect information, and now I'm finished," was Diath's terse reply.

"Just like that, huh? You're not even going to bother explaining what you were up to at the camp, or deny having had anything to do with that city that disappeared?"

"Plus I bet you're planning to kill Shem and kidnap Auntie Strix!" piped up Simon, leaping in front of the tiefling as if shielding him from a possible attack.

Diath quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "Is Strix nearby?"

Warning bells sounded in Paultin's head, but Simon continued on heedlessly. "As if you didn't know all along that she's been training here! Well the joke's on you, 'cuz now she and Mom have gone to Avernus, where they'll be safe!"

Diath's expression suddenly darkened, but his words were not what Paultin had expected. "Avernus? Have you people lost your minds!? Don't you know that Asmodeus will be looking for her?"

"Right, as if you care," snarled Shem, but Diath rounded on him, a look of wildness in his eyes.

"Your mother's soul is linked to yours. If Asmodeus gets his hands on Strix, it's as good as a map straight to you! I may have to live with the fact that I lost the Lorcatha soul to an unworthy brat like you, but there's no way in hell I'm going to let Asmodeus take it!"

Paultin felt cold dread sink into him. Had it been a mistake for him not to have gone to Avernus with the others? But no, Strix had insisted that he stay here and keep Shem safe. Yet what good would that be if Asmodeus learned how to track him down?

"Should... should we go bring them back?" asked Simon uncertainly.

Paultin glared distrustfully at Diath. If the rogue's goal was in fact to have them lead him to Strix-

"No, they must continue with their mission," Marcus insisted. "The citizens of Elturel depend on them."

"Don't pretend this is about saving lives," growled Shem. "You guys are just trying to clear your reputation after the Umbra made fools of you by sending that city into hell."

Diath rounded on Marcus. "That's who's behind this? The Umbra?"

"Yeah, you know, those old friends of yours who murdered my wife," said Paultin. He was surprised to see his words evoke a pained reaction in Diath.

"I... look, I didn't know. I only just found out through my contacts with Dran Enterprises. But it seems like fate is bringing us together again, Paultin. If we can get to the Umbra and have them break whatever contract sent Elturel into hell, then Evelyn and Strix can come home. And at the same time, we'll both finally get a chance at some revenge."

_Was it fate?_ Paultin wondered suspiciously. But the voice in his head that he'd hoped would answer remained silent.


	4. What Goes Up

A.N.: It's rough writing these when I'm tired, and I'm starting to run out of ideas for creative titles. But anyhow, I wanted to get this next chapter out before the new D&D series starts, in case interest in DCA dies down even more after that (probably inevitable, but I wish it didn't have to happen). Anyways, I'd say there are something like 6 more of these chapters to go. If I really wanted to be faithful to the multiverse plot, I would spread these out until we found out what happened to the players in the main Acq Inc game, but the next in-continuity show isn't until August, and I don't think I can stretch this series out that long. So I guess I'll have to think of something. In the meantime, he's part 4.

* * *

_**Some time in Sigil's past...**_

Held tightly in Diath's grip, Strix had no choice but to follow him into the magical portal. She had grown accustomed to the odd disorientation caused by planes-travel, having been forced to jump through many such gateways in the past. However, as they finally stepped onto firm ground at the other end, Diath immediately let go of Strix and dropped to his knees, steadying himself. Now free, Strix gazed back at the doorway of shimmering light, wondering if she should try to escape back through. But suddenly two children burst out from it, their faces filled with fear. She remembered seeing them in Evelyn and Paultin's arms, and assumed that these were the kids that the chain devil had been guarding. Had Shemeshka taken them away from her friends and sent them here? What was that evil _Blood_ planning?

Soon enough, Shemeshka herself stepped back through the doorway, and the portal behind her vanished. The arcanaloth looked down at them all imperiously, then put out a well-manicured hand and said, "Per our bargain, you are carrying two objects that now belong to me."

Strix's panicked mind immediately thought of the keys, and wondered if Shemeshka knew about the one Diath had entrusted to her. But the rogue reached instead into his belt pouch and pulled out Mr. Fox's spectacles. Strix had been able to identify them as a Gate Key, an object that could create portals like the one they had just traveled through. Diath handed the glasses over, then nodded at Strix and told her, "Go ahead and give her the book."

The trash witch remembered that Diath had entrusted her with it, hoping that she would be able to glean something from its pages, as she had the spectacles. Unfortunately, whether it was because she wasn't a wizard, or because the spells were protected by some form of arcane magic, the words inside looked like gibberish to her. Strix pulled out the unusually light tome from her robes, and handed it to the fiend.

"Where do those even take you, anyway?" Strix asked the arcanoloth, who seemed far more interested in the glasses. Strix wished she had actually been brave enough to test them while she still had the chance.

Shemeshka grinned. "Anywhere at all; even the Celestial Planes. You can imagine how valuable they would be to someone like Asmodeus, who has armies ready to spread his influence across the multiverse."

"You wouldn't dare-" began Diath, his eyes flashing angrily. But Shemeshka casually waved the matter aside.

"No, of course not, _my boy_. It would be bad for business, not to mention that disturbing the balance of the multiverse is certain to get me on a certain _Lady's_ bad side, and I would like to maintain my demesne on Sigil if at all possible. I went to such trouble to decorate this place to my liking."

Shemeshka opened her arms wide, as if presenting it to them. Strix looked around, realizing that they were in the foyer of an elaborate mansion. Trophies decorated the walls, including the heads and appendages of creatures she couldn't even identify. Strix had always harbored fear and mistrust towards the arcanaloth, but she had to admit that Shemeshka had good taste.

"Since you yourselves are now a part of my collection, I must insist that you stay here with me, where you will be safe. From what I hear, a Marut is still wandering about, searching for you."

Diath looked at Strix for an explanation, but she had never heard that name before either. The two children began to whimper.

"What about _them?_" Diath asked, pointing at the Cassalanters.

"Hmm_, yes._ Well I suppose they're _your_ problem now. If you have any needs, my unseen servants will attend to you. Unless of course, you would prefer to use one of your keys?"

Diath turned the hip carrying his keyring away from from Shemeshka. The aracanoloth smiled, displaying her sharp fangs, and vanished.

* * *

"Ah told yous a t'ousand times. Ders no more souls left in dis 'ere city. We needs to git goin' iffen yous wants to leave da place alive."

Evelyn looked sorrowfully down at the handful of people Umpox had helped them rescue from Elturel. She had a difficult time accepting that this was all she would be able to save out of its hundreds of former inhabitants.

"What happens when a person who comes to Avernus in their physical body dies here? Where do their souls go?" asked Strix. Evelyn was surprised by her question, but Strix explained, "Remember when we died in Barovia, and our souls couldn't leave? I was trapped in the mists, and met the spirit of a kid named Yesper. I was just wondering if things worked the same way here."

The imp snorted. "Iffen dey die, they moves on to wherever deys meant to be. Unless we ketch 'em first an' turn 'em into a coin." Umpox chuckled darkly.

"A coin?" repeated Shard in confusion. Umpox gave her a surprised look.

"Yeah, yous hags are good at makin' em. You just squeeze dem souls into a ball like, an den cast some magic that turns it to metal. Ah don't know the tricks to it, but ah s'pose you could ask Mad Maggie to show ya."

Evelyn stomped down on her good leg. "This won't do! We can't go home unless we save Elturel. And we can't save the City if so many of its people are still trapped here!"

Umpox pointed upwards at something Eveleyn hadn't noticed before. There was a large black metallic orb hovering over one corner of the island, which seemed to emanate a malevolent glow. She saw Strix grip her staff tightly and mutter something about fiendish magic.

"Yous ain't savin' dis city lessin' you can take care o' _that,_" said the imp. "An' last I heard, only Zariel had the keys to free the Companion."

Shard looked at the imp in surprise. "The Companion? You mean Amanautor's gift? But that was a ball of holy light."

Umpox hawked and spat. "Amanuator is dead; dat story was just a trick Zariel pulled on the high priest of the town. That there ball's got an angel trapped inside it, and now dat it's in hell, it's turned all dark an' nasty-like. This city ain't going nowheres lessen you can git dat damned thing open."

Shard and Strix turned to look at Evelyn, but she herself was barely aware of anything the imp has said after the words, '_Amanuator is dead'_. Evelyn had been reassured by knowledge that the old Sun God still maintained a presence in the world, even after he had been dethroned. It was what gave her hope that Lathander too, might be not truly be gone. But was she only fooling herself? Had everyone else forsaken Lathander because they already knew that there was no hope?

She felt the tears begin to flow. Umpox looked at her and snickered, but she didn't care. _Crying is a free action_, she thought to herself defiantly, then wondered where she might have heard that strange expression before.

* * *

Simon stayed close to Diath, wary for any traps the man might spring on them. If he did anything suspicious, the barbarian would be ready to put an axe into his back. Those dark thoughts made Simon blush, remembering how quick Diath had been to call him 'murderbot', whatever that meant. Simon knew that his own mom had the tendency to attack first and ask questions later, which had sometimes gotten them into trouble. What would she think about this situation now? Would she actually encourage them to trust their old friend, or would she no longer forgive him after he had used that whistle that had forced her to transform?

Out of the corner of his eye, he also kept an eye on Shem. Simon was sad to see how his childhood friend was not even attempting to reach out to his father, now that they had finally been reunited. Simon was grateful that his own parents had found him and accepted him, despite the unwanted programming that had forced him to shoot at that woman in Strahd's castle. Looking at Diath again, Simon wondered if some kind of unwanted programming might now be affecting his old "uncle". Certainly he wasn't acting anything like the Diath that Simon remembered, even discounting the awkward way he had once acted around Simon when he had still been a puppet.

"Are you sure this is the fastest way to Baldur's Gate?" asked Paultin in an annoyed tone. The bard was seated on the flying carpet Simon had brought back for him from the Undermountain. Unfortunately, Diath had chosen to lead them through the forest instead of taking the road, forcing Paultin to weave the rug around tight spaces between tree trunks and bushes.

"I left Waffles somewhere around here," muttered Diath. He brought his fingers to his lips and whistled, but after waiting several moments, nothing happened. Simon nervously decided to bring up something that had been bothering him ever since his parents told him about Waffles appearing after Simon had been knocked out in the woods.

"Diath... how did you manage to bring Waffles back to life?"

Simon could see his father's head instantly turn towards them in surprise. Diath snorted, then drew out the small jar where he carried a sliver of amethyst crystal, much longer and sharper than the one he used to carry around his neck. "You can thank the Sanguilith for that - and whichever one of you guys decided to tie my old pendant around Waffles' paw. Now the Sanguilith controls her body. And thanks to the piece of it K'thriss once gave me,_ I_ can tap into that power as well."

"The Sanguilith is evil, it consumes everything it touches!" cried Shem, finally addressing his sire. Simon then remembered that it had in fact been _Shem_ who had placed the pendant on Waffles. But how could any of them have predicted what would happen next? After they crossed into the Feywild and ran into Strix, as well as Shem and Shard's younger selves, they were kept so busy that no one spared the strange crystal a second thought. Her fur and feathers had probably grown around it, hiding it from view, even on the sad day when she had finally breathed her last - far exceeding the average lifespan of an owlbear. They had buried her in the woods, carving a gravestone with her name to mark the spot. But did that mean that Diath had visited the Feywild? _Had he been spying on their old home?_

"The Sanguilith is nothing but a tool," said Diath disdainfully. "Dran Enterprises believes they can control the Sanguilith and its creations. I only intended to summon my pendant back to me. Imagine my surprise when I saw who came along with it."

A black cloud suddenly fell upon them, obscuring everything from view. Simon immediately pulled Treebane from his belt, but had no idea which direction to face. Then from what he imagined must be the branches above them, he heard a laugh.

"Yes, you always _did_ make use of whatever or _wh_oever fell into your lap. For instance, two recently orphaned children who you could raise, replacing the family you had just lost. That is, until you finally had a child of your own, and we were left forgotten."

Shem cast a spell of his own, and suddenly the darkness evaporated. Simon immediately looked upwards, but quickly had to duck out of the way as several arrows fell around them.

Diath had not even moved, and stared instead at the bushes directly in front of them. "What have you done with my mount?" he shouted angrily.

Five darts of light shot out at Diath from the bush, and while they all seemed to hit their mark, they had no obvious effect after striking his black cape. Now it was Diath's turn to laugh. "Is that the best you can do? Elzerina? Terenzio?"

Simon gasped in recognition. Those were names of the Cassalanter children he had befriended long ago, when their tiefling nanny had brought them to the Waffle House bakery. But while Simon had aged since then thanks to his planes-traveling, these two also now sounded older somehow. What had happened to them, and why were they attacking Diath?

One of the twins suddenly dove out of the trees, but their target was not the rogue, _but Shem!_ Simon spotted it too late to intervene, but Shem had thankfully reacted in time and now had Gutter out, parrying the quick knife work of a blond-headed woman who Simon barely recognized. Diath began moving towards her, but his feet suddenly became entangled in vines that snaked across the forest floor. Simon hesitated only a moment before deciding to come to his rescue, using Treebane to chop at the magically animated vegetation.

"Stop!" shouted Paultin, and Simon felt the hint of magic in that command. Yet he also knew that it had not been directed at him, and so was able to resist it. Elzerina Cassalanter dropped her hands to her sides, letting the two knives fall. Her mouth, however, struggled to move, and Simon could barely make out what she was saying.

"You're...making...mistake," she managed to squeeze out from her barely moving lips.

Simon had finally managed to chop all the vines in the area into shredded bits. Rather than thank him, Diath brushed past him to interrogate the woman.

"Why did the two of you leave Sigil? Surely you're aware that Asmodeus is still after your souls."

From the bushes where the spells had been fired, Terenzio Cassalanter answered, "Asmodeus promised we could keep our souls, if we delivered him your son's. But now, you've taken away our last chance. He knows we have failed. He's watch-" the voice became garbled, as if the man were choking. His sister too, began to convulse. Suddenly metals chains erupted out of her body, wrapping themselves around her and thrusting outwards to strike at anything nearby. Diath grabbed Shem and pulled both of them to safety. Simon also backed away, but made the mistake of retreating towards the bush where the other twin had been hiding. Now the vegetation was being torn apart by more writhing chains, ending in hooked blades. One managed to wrap itself around Simon's foot, dragging him backwards.

_"Thunderwave!"_ shouted Paultin, and what little remained of the twin's cover was torn away. A fiendish figure now stood there, bearing no resemblance to the boy Simon had once known. The bard's spell seemed to have disoriented it, but it had not let go of Simon. He was being lifted up into the air.

Suddenly a massive shadow burst out from behind the devil and bowled it over. The chain binding Simon let go, and before he could hit the ground, he was scooped up by that same shadow, which carried him over to where the others had gathered and were braced to attack.

"Good girl, Waffles," said Diath, patting her head.

Simon could now see that it had indeed been the owlbear who had rescued him. Only the dull gleam in her eyes gave away the fact that she was not actually alive. The growth of amethyst crystals around her right front paw was also clearly unnatural, and Simon backed away from it quickly.

"Paultin, you and Simon take Shem to the place we talked about. Waffles and I will take care of these guys."

The bard glanced at the two chain devils hesitantly. "Look, I know the Batman cape is cool and all, but I don't think it's gonna be enough to stop them. Gimme a sec to see if the voice in my head has any ideas."

Diath shook his head and shoved Paultin angrily. "Take them out of here! You heard what he said - Asmodeus is watching and knows where we are! We don't have time for this!"

"I agree," said a new voice.

And then even greater chaos erupted around them.


	5. Twists of Fate

*Some time ago in Sigil's past*

Diath patiently watched the young girl take one of his throwing daggers - which in her small hands, seemed almost the size of a shortsword - and try to stab at the suit of armor displayed on a nearby pedestal. He might have worried about her accidentally chipping his blade, but even with all her weight behind the thrusts, the attacks seemed completely ineffective. He could see her begin to cry in frustration, and he told her to stop and let him examine her hands. Fresh blisters were forming where she had gripped the handle too tightly.

"Remember what I said - a good attack doesn't just have strength behind it, but skill. Look for the weak points and aim for them. You need to be quick, because a real enemy won't just be standing there letting you hit them."

Elzerina Cassalanter nodded at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He instructed her to run several laps around the gardens at the front of the mansion, then wandered over to the library where he knew Strix would be. She looked up from one of the velvet-upholstered sofas as he entered. He was surprised not to see Terenzio with her.

"Are you already done with the magic lesson?" Diath asked in surprise.

Strix stuck out her tongue and frowned. "Gah, I can't read _any_ of these stupid books, not even the ones the Blackstaff had given me to teach Jenks! Why do wizards have to make learning magic so hard? All_ I_ do is think about what I want, and it happens!"

Diath glanced down at the rudimentary magic books spread open around her. As his eyes began roving over the strange symbols, for a moment he thought he could actually make sense of what he was reading. He quickly tore his eyes away before Strix might notice, not wanting to upset her.

"Well if you'd rather teach weaponcraft, I'm sure we can find some sticks they can use as a staff." He thought he remembered spotting some brooms whose handles might be the right size, but decided not to mention them. The memory of being pummeled by magical brooms in Barovia still gave him nightmares.

Strix frowned at him. "I know you miss teaching Nat. I miss the kids too, even Squiddly..._but don't you dare tell him that!"_ The trash witch sighed and closed her eyes. "But these aren'_t them_. And I know you hate being locked away in here, but at least we're safe. Even if people out there are after us, they can't get inside this mansion."

Diath shook his head. "Don't forget Evelyn and Paultin. They're going to be looking for us. We owe it to them to try and find a way back."

Strix opened her eyes and looked forlornly down at her feet. "I wish they were here. And the Coven. And Waffles and Simon. But-" she turned to look directly into his eyes, surprising him by reaching a hand to his face, "-at least I'm here with the only person I've ever needed to feel like I'm home."

Diath was equally surprised to find himself reaching out to grip her hand in his, and then leaned forward to press his lips gently onto hers. She stiffened only a brief second, then relaxed into the embrace. Too scared to do more, he let the contact last only for a glorious moment, then pulled away to look anxiously into her eyes. She still had them closed, but he was relieved to see that she was smiling.

"Diath?"

"Yes?"

"It might be my curse talking, but can we do that again?"

* * *

Strix looked down at the magical black feather in her hand, drawing comfort from the rays of happiness beaming from it. It almost felt like she was once again in Diath's arms, back on that special day they had shared together in Sigil. If only-

"Yous gonna drag your feet in the sand all day, or are we gonna try ta make the Wandering Emporium by nightfall?"

Strix weaved the feather back into her mass of tangled back hair and hurried to catch up to the others, sticking her tongue out at the imp as she passed him. She was irked that he still managed to outpace her, even as he carried the large black soul bag they had borrowed from Baba Yaga. The modified magical artifact was an eloquent solution to their problem of what to do with the souls they rescued. Any good or neutral people that stepped into the bag would come out at Strix's old cottage in the Feywild, per their agreement with the ancient hag. Any evil souls would find themselves landing in Baba Yaga's cauldron.

"I thought there was no real day or night here," commented Evelyn, sounding distant and sullen. She had not been the same after Umpox had confirmed Amanuator's fate.

"Figure o' speech," grumbled the little fiend. His mood also seemed fouler, ever since Shard had let all of the rescued souls go free. She had used one of her strange rings to communicate with Strix's 'grannie' back when they were still on the floating island of Elturel. The trash witch had been unaware that Shard had access to such a tool, and wondered if they might have been able to make use of it sooner. Then again, Strix remembered that Baba Yaga had been involved in the deal Shemeshka had brokered on their behalf with the Sewn Sisters, which had resulted in three of them getting soul worms implanted into them. Deals with hags could be just as dangerous as deals with fiends, she realized. Diath had tried to warn her about that once, but Strix had been too innocent to know better. _Now,_ however...

"So you think we'll find prisoners from Elturel being sold at this _Emporium?_" Shard asked her familiar.

The devil hawked and spat. "Long before I gots to the floating city, it'd already been plundered by lotsa other folks. If dey've souls to sell or turn ta coin, that'd be the place ta do it."

"Hear that Evelyn? We'll get to save more people soon!" Strix told her friend, trying to cheer her up.

The ex-paladin looked around. "Are we almost there? It feels like we've been searching a long while."

In the distance, they all suddenly heard a low rumble.

"Is _that_ it?" Strix asked.

Umpox looked worried. "Ahms not sure. Could be the Emporium's on da move. But der's also a chance dat-"

Before he could finish, three strange wheeled contraptions zoomed towards them, almost running them over. Umpox instantly turned invisible. Evleyn grabbed the shield off her back and held it protectively in front of herself and Strix. Shard had nimbly dodged out of the way and now faced the machines with a longknife in her hand.

Strix began drawing on her power, shaping it into a fireball. She aimed its center at the largest of the vehicles, which had scythes swinging from its sides and jagged spikes protruding from all four wheels. As if her mouth suddenly had a will of its own, she began to hear herself utter words in a dark language, and was unable to stop. The ball of flames that had been forming atop the lead machine grew to three times her spell's usual size, and the other two vehicles also caught fire. Shard leapt back and joined Strix and Evelyn behind her shield, just as all three vehicles exploded, launching shrapnel and greasy black liquid through the air.

"What da hells did you do?" cried Umpox, reappearing beside them.

"I...I don't know!" Strix shrieked, horrified.

"Strix...that sounded just like the evil words you said that day back at the auction," Evelyn noted worriedly.

Then they heard an even louder rumble quickly approaching their location. Before Umpox could vanish again, Shard grabbed him by the tail and ordered, "_You_ stay here!" She then turned to Strix and asked, "The monks said their magic was hiding your soul from Asmodeus, right? Did they teach you any other trick to make yourself disappear?"

Strix shook her head. "I'm just an apprentice. But my staff can do it!" She gripped the shaft tightly and the runes along its length began to glow, along with the green symbols on its crescent. Then Strix felt the tingle of magic on her skin, and knew the invisibility spell was in effect. At that moment, a metallic monstrosity ten times the size of the vehicles she had just destroyed began to crest the sand dune in front of them. Its front was in the shape of a giant boar's head, and crawling atop it and along its sides were an assortment of half-animal, half-human beings.

"Hoo boy, we're in fer it now," said the imp, shaking his head miserably.

* * *

"We don't have time for this!" Paultin heard Diath shout at him, urging him to take Shem and Simon and run. But before the bard could make a move, a new voice called down from the branches above them.

"I agree."

Suddenly three arrows with golden tips shot down at what had once been Elzerina Cassalanter. The devil cried out as the projectiles each found their mark in a soft spot unprotected by the chains writhing around its body. A second later, a magical lash of energy wrapped itself around the second chain devil, yanking it upwards until it disappeared into the foliage of a neighboring tree.

To Paultin's surprise, a small monkey swung down from the branches and landed on the monster, crawling over the wounded devil until it had retrieved each of the arrows, causing it to again roar in pain as the serrated edges were yanked back out through its skin.

_Wait a minute, Where have I seen a monkey before..._ thought Paultin suspiciously. There had been that time in Chult where the Zhents had tried to lure Simon away from him using their pet monkey. Could they actually have a hand in this?

"Thanks Lucy, those arrowheads are too expensive to waste!" said a somewhat familiar voice from the branches.

"What the hell is going on?" cried Diath angrily, echoing Paultin's thoughts. Just then, a hooded figure dropped from the trees with the point of its sword aimed directly at the devil's unprotected head. The force of gravity helped embed the blade into the creature's skull, and it thrashed about wildly.

"Nat!" cried Simon joyfully, and both Paultin and Diath's jaws dropped.

The girl - now grown into a fierce young woman - nodded at them in greeting from atop the devil's shoulders, still holding onto her sword. "We'll catch up later. For now, help us take these things down!"

Paultin was surprised at her voice, realizing he had never heard her speak before. It must have been Nat who had shouted down at them, interrupting his squabble with Diath. The rogue got over his shock first and circled the fiend, trying to reach its back unnoticed. Paultin began singing loudly, drawing the monster's attention while at the same time granting Diath inspiration. Finally in position, Diath drew back Moonsplinter and thrust it deep into the chain devil's back. The creature screamed and aimed every single chain it controlled at Diath, but the rogue used his weapon's magic to _misty step_ safely out of range.

"Leave some for me!" shouted Simon gleefully, and he raced at the fiend with Treebane in hand, chopping at its now unprotected belly. The devil's entrails emptied onto the ground, and it shuddered as it dropped to its knees. Simon swung the axe blade around again for a second attack, but before he could do so, the monster disintegrated in a cloud of sulfurous smoke. Nat landed in a defensive crouch and resheathed her sword

"There's still the second one we need to take care of," noted Diath grimly, looking up at the branches where he had seen it disappear.

"Oh, don't worry about_ him_," said a mage dressed in brown robes, floating slowly downwards. "I banished him back to hell."

"That was so awesome!" cheered a red-skinned tiefling, using his claws to scamper down the tree where he had been been perched. The little monkey jumped onto his back and began chittering at him. "Yeah yeah, Lucy, you did good too!"

"Hey, where's Martem?" asked the mage, who Paultin had to assume was Jenks. He was still a little pudgy, but his robes hid it well.

Shem scratched his head uncomfortably. "The Sanguilith got him."

"Daaaaamn," said Squiddly, nodding sympathetically. "Well, he did foresee something like that happening." The ranger then finally seemed to notice Waffles, and the unusual crystals sprouting out of her leg. "Whoa, is that Waffles? Did the Sanguilith get her too?" He quickly backed away.

"That's not Waffles," said Nat with a frown. She then motioned at Jenks, who nodded and made a small portal appear. Out from it bounded a second owlbear, much smaller than Waffles, but with similar coloring.

"Ferdinand!" called out Simon happily. "Hey guys, this is Waffles' cub!" he explained to Paultin and Diath. The creature came towards Paultin and sniffed him, and the bard tentatively patted its beak. He had never felt much of a connection towards the Crew's' many pets, preferring to focus his affection towards his son. As if sensing this, the beast quickly moved on and approached Diath, but Waffles blocked its path and growled at it.

"She may not be the old Waffles, but she serves well enough," said Diath, springing onto her back. He then turned to address the group. "The longer we stay here, the more likely Asmodeus's reinforcements will catch up to us."

"My father's right," said Shem. He then began using hand gestures, and Paultin - having picked up a little of their secret language - was able to make out the words 'Enemy listening. Follow quiet."

Paultin knew the kids..._adults?_...would be burning with questions. He had a few of his own. But that would have to wait until they were safely within the walls of Baldur's Gate.


	6. Wolf Among Sheep

A.N.: I am having fun integrating small elements from the 'Avernus' module and even the live 'Descent' game (the part DM'ed by Kate), while changing a few things around to avoid spoiling too much, as I imagine Chris might have done. Splitting the group also allows me to cover elements from both the Waterdeep and Avernus locales concurrently, which saves me a lot of time. It's going to be rough trying to pack the rest of the plot in only 4 or 5 more chapters.

* * *

The large boar-headed warmachine rumbled towards them, its occupants leaping down onto the sand and rushing forward to encircle Evelyn and her friends. She could hear Strix's frightened groan, although the trash witch was still invisible thanks to her staff. Evelyn herself whispered an entreaty to Lathander and lifted the flametongue greatsword from the sheath on her back.

Speaking those holy words brought her a small modicum of comfort, even if she knew they fell on deaf ears. The warm, loving glow she had once felt linking herself to her god was gone, just as it had been when she was trapped in Barovia. But she knew that this time her connection wasn't just being blocked, but had been severed completely in order to protect herself from the corrupting influence of the Sanguilith. Did the Morninglord's divine spark still exist somewhere, trapped in that evil amethyst prison? With the mantle of Sun God stripped from him and handed over to that new deity Krisperkins, Lathander would be left weak and powerless, a threat to no one - even if he was now under the Sanguilith's control. Evelyn's prayers might be the only thing still sustaining him. If there was any chance he might one day be freed, Evelyn had to make sure there was still something of him left to save. _She could not give up hope!_

Nevertheless, as she watched the were-creatures surround her party, Evelyn fully realized what the loss of her link to Lathander meant. She was now bereft of all of the protective powers that had made her a paladin. How was she to help her friends now?

"Jus' lemme do all da talkin'," said Umpox, sounding sure of himself. Shard looked at him curiously, but nodded. The immense vehicle came to a halt in front of them, belching dark clouds of smoke and steam as it did so. A figure walked out from one of the mechanical creature's eyes and presented itself.

"I am Raggadragga, King of Avernus! Who dares attack _my_ crew?"

Umpox took a deep breath and bellowed back, "King, eh? Dat's odd, cuz I coulda sworn my lord_ Asmodeus_ ruled all da hells."

The figure squinted down at them from his tall perch, then quickly disappeared back inside.

"I don't know if we want to be bringing up _you know who_," said Strix's voice, sounding worried.

Umpox hawked and spat. "Der's only _one_ power all these folks hereabouts respect, and dat's the big man _downstairs,_" he explained softly. Just then, a second door in the giant machine opened up, this time at its base. Raggadragga came out, accompanied by a handful of assorted lycanthropes. The self-proclaimed king appeared to be a large wearboar, with a crest of sharp golden spikes on his head shaped like a crown. As he approached the group, he seemed to look back and forth between Evelyn and Shard, as if wondering who was in charge. In the end, he settled on addressing the imp directly.

"So ya blokes work for Asmodeus then? Cuz ya wouldn't be the first sorry saps to go pretendin' to be what they aint, just so I'd spare their dumb lives."

Umpox grinned and motioned at the smoldering remains of the vehicles Strix had destroyed. "Have a gander at that, and tell me if you think just anyone 'round here can cast_ hellfire_."

The sight of his burned machines seemed to enrage the wereboar, and he easily lifted the giant warhammer he carried with a single hand. Just as suddenly, however, he seemed to remember the potential importance of his 'guests', and let the hand drop.

"It's a shame we were forced to defend awselves. If your scouts had just let us be, none o' this might've happened. But since you _did_ threaten personal envoys of the almighty Asmodeus, ahm 'fraid der's also gonna be something of a fine."

Raggadragga snorted in disbelief. _"A fine?_ But ya already wrecked my Tormenters! Ya know how much fixen them's gonna cost me?"

Umpox scanned the crowd of creatures around them. "How's bout we make a deal? Awl takes whatever good or neutral souls you might've recently acquired and collect them in this here soul bag."

The wereboar went into a spurt of snorting, sounding amused. "What use would ah have for any of those? Any innocents we find are either hunted for sport, or turned into one of us. And they don't stay innocent much longer after _that_."

Umpox seemed at a loss for what to say next, but Shard quickly took over. "Give us a ride to the Wandering Emporium then, and we'll forget this little incident ever happened."

The wereboar looked her up and down appraisingly. "So_ you're_ the one in charge. A hag, are ya? Me and Mad Maggie... well, that's in the past, but let's just say ah know a thing or two about hags and what they like. Let me show ya around my home after my crew load up those machines ya busted, and we can see about getting ya to the Emporium."

Raggadragga then took notice of Evelyn. "You're a were' too, eh? Ah can smell it on ya. Why are ya hiding it like you're ashamed or somethin'?"

Evelyn was taken aback by the question, and she could almost hear Strix make a small gasp of surprise. Thinking about it, she realized she had never had a chance to update Strix on her condition. While once she had adored her cute animal form and the supernatural strength it gave her, after Diath had forced her to transform and she found herself losing control as she once had in Barovia, it never seemed quite so fun any more.

"I just don't feel like it," Evelyn said lamely, not wanting to elaborate. But the wereboar wasn't the the type to listen to excuses.

"Transform and help my crew out with liftin' that wreckage ya caused so we can get on the road!" he shouted in a commanding voice, and Evelyn found herself unable to resist, quickly changing into her were-Pomeranian state. Raggadragga then extended his arm towards Shard and said, "Milady?"

Shard reached her clawed hand out to take his, and gave Evelyn a faint nod. Umpox shook his head and followed them as the wereboar headed back towards the giant warmachine. Evelyn hoped Strix was also invisibly following.

Suddenly the ex-paladin found herself surrounded by other werewolves, who brushed up against her and began sniffing. She froze in panic, uncertain what she was supposed to be doing. A large female with a brown pelt suddenly shooed everyone aside and ordered them to work. She looked Evelyn up and down before introducing herself.

"I'm Fara, the alpha female among the wolves. Korn is my mate," she said, nodding her head at a scarred black male who was already busy hauling one of the larger pieces of debris back into the warmachine. Evelyn was amazed at how strong he was, and found herself unable to look away. But Fara roughly grabbed Evelyn's chin and forced her to redirect her gaze. "He's _mine_, you hear me? Don't get any ideas," snarled the she-wolf.

"Absolutely not!" Evelyn was quick to reassure her. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with any of your customs. Usually when I'm around other werewolves, we're just trying to kill each other."

Fara barked a laugh. "You have the bloodlust, do you? Well, Raggadragga doesn't tolerate fighting within the packs; bad for morale. But if you behave yourself and follow our orders, I'll make sure you have a chance at some sport. Now, go make yourself useful and help the others!"

Evelyn was surprised to find herself automatically obeying, and being content to do so. As she took up one corner of a heavy piece of equipment and helped three other were-creatures carry it inside, she wondered if this was what it felt like to be part of a pack, working communally towards a common goal. Evelyn also realized that it was nice for once to not have to think too hard about what she was supposed to do, and leave all of the difficult decision-making to the leaders. Diath had once shouldered that responsibility, but ever since he had gone missing-and now literally gone_ rogue _\- she was forced to do more thinking for herself, always worrying if she was doing the right thing.

_This is so much nicer,_ she realized happily.

* * *

Simon was somewhat disappointed to discover that the Elfsong Tavern was was not a dark and seedy joint like one might have expected to find in a city with Baldur's Gate's reputation. Peering around at the other patrons, none of whom looked even remotely drunk enough to suddenly challenge him to a fight, the barbarian sighed and looked down into his own mug of ale. Out of the corner of his eye he spied Paultin frowning at him, and remembering that his father had made a point not to drink on duty, Simon regrettably found himself putting the mug down.

"Dad's kind of a grump now, isn't he," remarked Squiddly, pointing to the far end of the tavern where Diath and Paultin sat alone, engrossed in their own hushed conversation.

Simon frowned. "Nah, he's just under a lot of stress. He's not used to all this responsibility."

Jenks chuckled and leaned back into his chair. "Squiddly was referring to _Diath._ You know how he likes to think that Strix is his mom, and after she and Diath, well, you know-" he said, nodding his chin towards Shem. Both tieflings grinned mischievously at each other, the topic being an old joke between them.

"That isn't Diath," said Nat in a cold voice. The playful ambiance around their table instantly dissipated.

Jenks quirked an eyebrow at her and asked, "Are you sure? You said the same thing about Waffles, but I think we can all agree that she's the same owlbear we all grew up with." Simon had been surprised that the tavern owner had not made more of a fuss about bringing their pets inside, but being half-elven, he seemed comfortable around wild animals. The two beasts now lay obediently by the fireplace; Ferdinand snoring quietly while his mother stayed alert.

Nat shook her head. "Obviously they look the same on the _outside_, but they are not acting naturally. Waffles seems almost feral, and if Diath wasn't controlling her somehow I'm sure she'd be attacking everyone. As for Diath, he hasn't said one word to any of us since we got here."

"So what if he hasn't? We were just kids to him back then; it's not like we actually meant anything to any of them," grumbled Jenks. Simon was surprised to hear the mage so easily dismiss the bonds of family they had once all felt towards the members of the Waffle Crew. Diath had especially been a mentor to Nat, and Simon knew that the rogue's current indifference probably hurt her deeply. But Jenks...hadn't Jenks once confessed to them that he actually had parents in Waterdeep, but that he had still felt abandoned? Maybe it made sense that he had now become jaded about what being part of a family actually meant.

Nat also seemed to understand Jenks's feelings, but she didn't let it get her down. "If they've forgotten us, then it's time we make ourselves useful and prove we deserve to be part of the team! And if Diath doesn't think we're much of a threat, then maybe we can use that to our advantage and get close enough to him find out what's really going on."

Simon grinned conspiratorially. "Let me guess, you've been lip-reading what my dad and Diath have been talking about all this time?"

Nat frowned. "No, Diath has been keeping his back to me, so he probably remembers that little trick. But we do have a different source of information." She nudged Shem, who looked back at her in surprise.

"I can't use Gutter," the tiefling hissed softly, as if trying not to let the sword itself overhear him. "My dad warned us that if we tried calling Shemeshka, he could use her true name and turn her against us."

Suddenly the front door of the tavern burst open, and several men-at-arms fanned out inside. One wearing slightly better armor seemed to be their leader, and he called out to everyone, "Alight, listen up! As of right now, y'all have joined the glorious ranks of the Flaming Fist! We're going to clean out that nest of Dead Three cultists hiding down under the streets, and bring order back to the City! Do this, and you will be richly rewarded. But if I catch any of you trying to escape, I'll consider it proof that you're in league with the devil-worshipers, and we will shoot you down with extreme prejudice!"

Simon quickly looked around at the other patrons, expecting at least one person to speak out, but everyone seemed cowed by the heavily-armed soldiers. Simon and his friends were probably the most battle-experienced ones present, but he wasn't sure if now was really the best time to be drawing attention to themselves.

"Should we fight them?" muttered Simon out of the corner of his mouth, too low for the guards to hear. He looked to Nat, but her eyes were frantically darting around the room. He was about to ask her what was wrong, when it suddenly dawned on him that the far table was empty.

Diath and Paultin had disappeared.


	7. Destiny of the Blood

To make up for the fact that the last chapter was so short, this one is pretty hefty. I hope I'm not rushing things too much as I get closer to the end, and realize just how much story I still have to pack in here. In case you're wondering what it is that Strix is remembering, it's a reference to the _PAX East 2018 Acq Inc_ game she was in (which probably isn't canon, but like the _Descent_ _live_ games, it's fun to work in a reference to them).

* * *

Strix sat atop a mound of garbage deep inside the belly of the giant warmachine. The smells, goopy textures, and occasional vermin did not particularly bother her, even though she had been sitting there for what must have been days. Rather, they triggered memories of her younger days when she had been forced to fend for herself in the streets of Waterdeep, and even earlier, in the rundown alleys of the Hive. A surprising amount of treasure could be uncovered in a trash pile, though she knew it was not the same as the gems and gold that Diath was always after. Yet Strix got the same sense of euphoria and pride whenever she uncovered a piece of discarded food that had not yet gone bad, or found the corpse of a strange creature she had never seen before. Corpses had even been a form of currency with the Dustmen, sometimes earning her food that no one had else had even taken a bite from yet! Other people preferred to be paid with odd pieces of metal, but Strix thought jink was dumb and served no useful purpose. After she had her own bakery, she let Diath deal with the financial side of things, still disliking the whole concept of money. Why couldn't she just give her pies to whoever wanted one?

"Ah, so dat's where yous been hiding. Y'always _did_ like to be covered in muck."

Strix frowned at the imp as it flew down towards her. "What's that supposed to mean?" she growled, wondering if she should toss a piece of garbage at it.

Umpox shook his head. "Doncha remember, back when we was both working for da Sewn Sisters. You had moss growing on yer face and hells knows _what_ you were using fer clothes. I do miss those days," sighed the imp, settling himself on some broken furniture.

Strix was annoyed that the imp continued to confuse her with the disgusting clone of herself the hags had made. As a matter of fact, she had purposefully picked the garbage chute as her hiding spot to mask her tiefling scent, as it was pretty hard to stay hidden in a vessel filled with were-creatures who had a super sense of smell. But her argument was instantly forgotten when she heard his next question.

"You think my mistress will ever find a coven of other hags to belong to?"

Strix sputtered in shock. _"What!?"_ she shrieked.

"So she can make a Hag Eye," he explained, as if it were obvious. "Ah miss having one to carry around. When dem Sisters weren't using it, they let me tune in to the Witch Network and spy on what other hags were watching. It was darn good entertainment."

At the mention of a Witch Network, Strix had a sudden recollection of herself trapped on an island with Omin, Morgaen and Viari, competing with numerous other adventurers. One of the competitors actually had a magical eyeball following him around that he would talk to, as if conversing with an audience. He had mentioned the Witch Network... but wait, that whole thing had just been a crazy dream of hers, right?

"Anyhoo, ah just came ta letcha know we've arrived at da Emporium."

"Oh thank god!" cried Strix in relief, grabbing a bag she had filled with interesting things she had collected in the trash. "I can't wait to show these to Evelyn!"

Umpox chuckled. "She's a touch busy at da moment. And even if she survives, ah don't think she'll care about your trinkets no more."

Strix's arm shot out and grabbed the imp by the tail. She felt the same dark power from before begin to try to take over her mouth again. Before it could do so, she quickly spat out, "Show me!"

Umpox seemed to know better than to argue, and flew up through the chute opening. Strix cast a fresh invisibility spell on herself with the staff and turned it back into a broom, jumping onto it to join the imp as it navigated around the warmachine's inner chambers. Finally they found themselves in an open arena, where Strix was relieved to see that Evelyn was unhurt, though she was still in werewolf form. Strix had been very unnerved to learn that Evelyn was a lycanthrope again, and wondered if her 'remove curse' spell might have failed somehow. Surely Evelyn wouldn't have _intentionally_ gotten herself cursed again, even if she _had_ often talked about missing her cute furry form.

"Do it!" snarled a black werewolf standing next to Evelyn. Strix could see that there was also a brown female on the ground in front of them, with burns on her pelt from what Strix had to assume was the giant flaming sword being held in Evelyn's grip. The wounded creature shifted back into human form and shielded her naked body with her hands. This did not seem to deter Evelyn, who raised her sword as if to make another strike.

"Wait Evelyn!" cried Strix, who had trouble believing her friend would attack someone defenseless, no matter how evil they might be. _It's like the rakshasa all over again_, she thought grimly to herself. When her plea seemed to have no effect, Strix called out the only spell that ever came to mind during times of emergency: _polymorph._

The female werewolf on the ground turned into a small insect, one Strix had chosen intentionally to be too small for Evelyn to see or smell. Unfortunately, casting the spell also caused her invisibility spell to fizzle out. Enraged, the werepom spun around just as Strix landed her broom, doing so at a safe distance, just in case.

"Who are you to interfere in my pack's business?" growled the black male, furious.

"Strixxxx," said Evelyn, having difficulty making human words in that form.

"H-hi Evelyn," said Strix nervously. "Guess what, we've reached the Emporium, yay! Now we can go free those souls and go home."

"I_ am_ home," the werepom said, then threw up her head and howled. In answer, other creatures joined in the cry from multiple locations within the warmachine. The mixture of echoing sounds was at once both terrifying and entrancing. But Strix quickly shook it off and approached her friend, aiming her staff protectively out in front of her.

"You're not yourself, Evelyn. These guys aren't your family. Me, Paultin, Simon and the others... _we're your family_." Strix gulped as she saw Evelyn begin to come closer, and quickly pulled something out of her bag. "And look - look what I found in the trash!" She waved the items out in front of her, and Evelyn halted her approach with a look of consternation.

The black werewolf glanced at the two pieces of tattered clothing and barked a laugh. "Ah yes, those were on that little wooden boy we found a while back. Completely worthless."

Evelyn's eyes seemed to glow red as she turned to face the black one. "What did you do with Simon?!"

The other werewolf looked at her in surprise. "Simon? That thing was garbage, no flesh on him at all. Wouldn't even have made a good chew toy."

Evelyn leaped at the other creature with her jaws wide open, closing them around his neck. He cried out angrily and swiped at her with his claws, knocking her off him. She was immediately back on her feet, this time with the Sword of Spinelli in both hands. Suddenly the black one seemed to be covered in wisps of dark shadows. Strix gasped, recognizing this as something the werewolf leader who had fought them at the winter cabin had also possessed.

"Evelyn, look out!" Strix cried, not knowing if she realized the danger she was in. Those necrotic shadows would sap away at her strength if she got too close, and still allow the black one to hurt her with its claws.

"You will obey me!" growled the pack leader, and Evelyn shook her head, seeming to fight off some kind of compulsion. With a growl of her own, she appeared to be drawing strength from some hidden source, and suddenly smokey wisps began to surround her as well.

The black werewolf's muzzle curved into a smile. "I see the Night Mother has blessed you as well. I knew that we were meant to lead this pack together. Now stand down, and accept your place as my mate!"

It only took a second for Evelyn to swing the giant flamesword around and sever the black one's head from his shoulders.

Strix watched the battle unfold in stunned silence. She was relieved Evelyn had won, but did not at all like the sight of black shadows now swirling protectively over her body. The Night Mother was a Barovian deity that Strix had learned about from Baba Lysaga, who had visited her during the fifty years she has spent alone in the swamp, and had shown her the blood magics that would slow the aging process. But this was not Barovia, and Strix wondered what dark god might be claiming that title here.

"Give me Simon's things!" growled Evelyn, and the trash witch yelped and quickly tossed them over.

Evelyn resheathed the blade onto her back, then howled once more. This time the others came running, yipping in their eagerness to please her. Strix got back on her broom and hovered over them, as the arena filled with a sea of furry bodies. Evelyn stood at its center, wreathed in smoke, and raised Simon's clothing aloft.

"Find the one these belong to! Bring him to me unharmed!" she commanded. The wolves instantly scattered in all directions. The arena was once again empty except for Evelyn, Umpox and Strix. And possibly the injured werewolf Strix had turned into a bug, which had hopefully not just been trampled.

"Come," Evelyn growled over her shoulder at them, as she dropped to all fours and began running.

Strix and Umpox exchanged worried glances and hastened to follow.

* * *

**SOME TIME IN SIGIL'S PAST**

Diath pored over the books in the library, trying to find ones whose symbols matched those in the book Alise Keladonna had secretly handed to him - the book that Binwin had uncovered in the rashkasa's home, which the Cassalanter imps had then stolen. Alise had made a point to pass the book on to Diath in the final moments before she expected Asmodeus to come claim her soul. Diath could only hope that she was still in control of her actions at that point, and that this was a genuine attempt for her to make amends to him. What secrets might that book be hiding?

He wondered if his recent ability to read magical texts might also give him an edge here, but the writing in the rashkasa's tome seemed not only magical, but in a completely different language. He thought the symbols resembled those he had briefly glimpsed in the spellbook the hags had stolen from Mr. Fox, but Diath had handed it over to Strix and not a chance to study it. His eyes roved hopefully over the rows and rows of books in the library, but he doubted Shemeshka would have been careless enough to leave _that_ one lying around.

The sound of unfamiliar voices in the corridor startled him, and he quickly rose from the table and crept to the library door. He then realized that the voices actually _were_ somewhat familiar, but this was the last place he would have expected to find either of those people. He pulled out Gutter and marched angrily into the hallway.

"Ah, he appears," said the Vistani crone, leaning against a one-armed brute for support.

"Madam Eva," nodded Diath, before passing a cold stare onto Izek. "You two are a long way from Barovia. And forgive me for saying so, but I'm a little surprised that Shemeshka let you in."

The old woman chuckled mirthlessly. "She knows I'm harmless, and probably hopes to overhear a few secrets. But I know her part in all this, and I trust her not to sell my words to wrong people."

Diath still glared at Izek, but Strix's brother made no attempt to meet his eyes. Eva noticed Diath's gaze, and muttered a request for Izek to find her a seat. He nodded and made a wide berth around Diath before scampering through the doorway to the library.

"He won't harm you again. The Skizziks have disowned him, and he no longer has tiefling features as you can see," Eva told him reassuringly.

Diath frowned, remembering what Izek had told them in the Shadowfell. "He said_ I_ had made him lose the arm, after I stabbed it to make him let go of our carriage. But that never made sense, since he still had both arms when he attacked us at Paultin's fake wedding."

Eva shook her head. "Lady Wachter caught Izek in her basement after Strix had convinced him to invade her home. She then used her magics to wipe his memory and make him *think* that was what had made him lose the arm, and to then convince him to steal that doll of Strahd out of Guantylgrim and bring it to you. I suppose she hoped you would be nearby when my brother was released, and that he could then take his revenge on you and recover his strength from your blood."

Diath watched Izek carry out a large armchair with his one hand and place it behind the old Vistani, helping to ease her into it. Despite Eva's words, Diath could not help but be suspicious of Strix's brother. _Brother..._

"Wait a minute, did you just say that Strahd was your _brother?"_

The fortuneteller smiled, showing her crooked yellow teeth. "Maybe you remember me better as Madam _Katarina?_ Yes, I have met you twice before, in different versions of that dark plane. My magic allows me to exist in and foresee all the myriad dimensions of the Dark Powers' playground. Our magics are tied to one another, a fate which we cannot escape...a fate which will forever haunt my bloodline."

"Paultin," muttered Diath in realization, remembering his vision in Dendar's temple of the bard looking eerily similar to Strahd, but with eyes glowing blue from the power of the Ring of Winter. "What's his role been in all this?"

Eva looked down at her long wrinkled fingers and frowned. "Yes, my great-grandson, many generations removed. That he has survived this long uncorrupted is a testimony to the powerful light shining within the souls of you and your friends. Tying his destiny to yours was the only path of salvation I could foresee for him. That is why I ordered his parents to rescue Strix and Izek out of Barovia and bring them back to Sigil, where the Wachters could not reach them and fulfill Asmodeus's plans. But then _this_ one had to escape and run back to Barovia like a fool!" The crone swatted at Izek, who shrunk back fearfully.

Diath looked back and forth between Izek and Eva, trying to decide if he could trust them. "You said Izek was disowned by the Skizziks and that's why he lost the arm-"

"The Ashtown Concordance forbids their family from interfering with yours. Izek should not have been able to harm you, except that Asmodeus knew of a loophole. He created an even stronger tie to Izek, one whose orders superseded all other contracts." She nudged the brute with her elbow and commanded, "Show him!"

The one-armed man fished something out of his pocket, then handed it sullenly over Diath, recoiling slightly as their fingers made contact. Diath looked down at the small object. It was a black rectangles with the symbol of a barbed 'S' at the top. Flipping it over, he was startled to find his own name engraved into the card.

"That is a kill order from an entity known as the Shadow Council. Or more accurately, a break off branch calling itself the Umbra that takes orders directly from Asmodeus himself. Their people reached out to Izek and recuited him, turning him into an enforcer not only for the deluded burgomaster of Vallaki, but an assassin for the hells. He and Lady Wachter were unknowingly working on the same side all along."

Izek growled at that remark, but did not seem to have the nerve to speak out against Eva. Diath put the card into his pouch to examine later. "So tell me, why was it so important for Asmodeus to kill me? He's had plenty of chances since then, but the Skizziks seem to have mostly been after Strix. At least they were, before she changed her name."

Eva slapped the arm of the chair, startling the two men. "Weren't you paying attention? I told you Izek lost his tiefling features when he was disowned by the Skizziks. While the Umbra do have certain perks from the hells, a direct blood tie to Asmodeus _isn't_ one of them. But Strix is still a tiefling, and her sorcerer magic is still fueled by Asmodeus's divine powers. So what does that tell you?"

Diath felt his knees buckle, and wished *he* had a chair to fall into. "It means Strix is still tied to Asmodeus," the rogue said, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, this Beestinger family might have a link of their own with that devious devil, in which case the name change did nothing at all! It's no wonder he went along with it, letting the rest of you grow complacent. As for why he wants your death, yours is the only Lorcatha soul not already in his possession. When he is able to claim all of you, he will be able to represent you in the contract signed by the celestial forces and your family, a contract that grants them access to heavenly powers and the upper planes. He will invade and desecrate their holy lands, creating legions of new devils that can invade the Abyss and finally end the Blood War. _All_ the planes will belong to him. _That_ is the future we are trying to stop."

Diath's head spun with all this new information. Others had tried to hint to him what it meant to be a Lorcatha and the importance of his soul, but this was the first time anyone had bothered to explain why. This wasn't just about keeping his distance from Strix because of an ancient family feud. This was about keeping evil from taking over all of existence.

The old woman motioned to Izek to help her climb to her feet, then nodded at Diath and said, "All right, I've passed on my message. The rest is up to you."

Diath felt panic overwhelm him. "w-wait, what are we supposed to do now?" He glanced quickly over to Izek, who was slowly guiding Eva back towards the mansion entrance. Hoping to stall for time, he asked the brute, "Don't you want to talk to your sister?"

Izek grumbled, "She won't want to see me. Do us all a favor and don't tell her we were ever here."

As they were about to reach the door, Eva called back to him, "Take good care of my grandson! Don't worry, you_ will_ see each other again."

* * *

Paultin focused a wary eye on the rogue seated across from him, while also trying to keep tabs on the rest of their party. Diath's table was surprisingly well shadowed and at an angle hidden from most other diners in the tavern. The 'kids' were eating by themselves closer to the fireplace, with Simon proudly narrating their recent adventures to catch his friends up. He definitely had the makings of a good bard, Paultin thought. Maybe he should have a talk with him about at least _trying it_ as a subclass...

"It's a good thing those others showed up. We can trust them to keep an eye on Shem while _we_ hunt down the Umbra," said Diath in a low voice.

Paultin fingered the empty wine glass in front of him instead of meeting Diath's gaze. "I dunno. Evelyn trusted me to look after the kid, and I don't feel right just leaving him behind. Plus he really seems to want to help solve Sandra's murder."

"He was trying to take up my debts in my stead," snorted Diath, shaking his head. "But _I'm_ here now, and I have my own score to settle with the Umbra."

Paultin quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you going to be after those exes of yours? You told me they weren't directly involved."

Diath took something small and rectangular out of his pouch and slipped it across the table to Paultin. The bard looked at it uncertainly, not recognizing the symbol on the card, but on its reverse side he could clearly make out the words 'Diath Woodrow'.

"The Umbra hand those out to assassins to mark their targets. There was probably once one with your wife's name on it, too."

Paultin could feel his lips tighten into a very thin line as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Other than the coin, this was the first solid piece of evidence he had that his wife's death wasn't just some random act of violence. He had tried to argue with the City Watch that there had to have been some nefarious motive behind it, but they had dismissed it as a common burglary gone bad, perhaps because Sandra had unexpectedly walked in on the thieves, startling them.

Paultin handed it back to Diath with a trembling hand, but the rogue shook his head and said, "Keep it." Diath then suddenly looked up, as if reacting to something, and whispered, "Cast _dimension door_ to take us thirty feet down into the sewer below us. Hurry!"

Paultin looked back at him uncertainly, but after years of taking orders from Diath, he didn't hesitate long. A swirling gateway appeared beside them, leading into darkness. Diath instantly leaped through, and Paultin was stuck deciding whether to jump in after him or go grab the others. But his spell would only transport the caster and one other, so no one else _could_ go through. Throwing one last look of regret and Simon and Shem, Paultin passed into the magical doorway.

He expected to land in something wet, with the all-too familiar smell of sewage assaulting his nose. To his surprise, the passageway he found himself in was clean and dry, faintly lit by interspersed torches that indicated that someone had passed through there recently.

"You knew this place was here?" asked Paultin in surprise.

Instead of answering, Diath led him further into the tunnel, which began to slope slightly downwards. Just as Paultin was beginning to have second thoughts, they came upon a smooth slab of stone blocking their path, with a triangular mark etched directly in its center. As he came closer, Paultin could make out three robed skeletons drawn inside the symbol, one of which seemed to be holding some kind of eye.

"Put that card I gave you up to the engraving," instructed Diath.

Paultin reached for his pocket and drew out the object, but then paused. There once had a been a time when he would have proceeded recklessly and tried anything out of the ordinary, just for the excitement of seeing what might happen. Letting the snerson lick him, putting on the Ring of Winter, hitting the gong in the yuant-ti temple, pressing the button on Warrington's bomb... After all, a bard's job was to entertain! But as he spent more time being sober and realizing all the things he now had to live for, he became less inclined to put himself or his family at risk.

"What happens if I do?" asked Paultin suspiciously. But Diath made an exasperated sound and grabbed his hand, physically dragging it and the card over the symbol. There was a mechanical click as some kind of magical light pulsed over the symbol, and the slab rumbled as it slowly sank into the ground.

"Come on," urged Diath, disappearing into the shadows beyond the now open entrance. This time the torches were farther apart and flickering wildly, despite the fact that the air was completely still. It reminded Paultin somewhat of the creepy hallways inside of the black building where the monks had initially brought them. If the Umbra were supposed to be a rogue branch of the Shadow Council, he supposed it made sense that they liked the same decor. Still, this overt display of their occult magic unnerved him. What the hell was he doing here, with only Diath as backup? The latter was leading him purposefully through the hallways as if he had been here before. After several left turns, he stopped before an open doorway, then reached down to lift out a long serrated knife that had been hidden inside his boot. Paultin's eyes widened as Diath flipped the knife and grabbed it by the blade in midair, pointing the handle at Paultin.

"Go ahead, take it. You'll need something sharp."

Paultin took the proffered weapon, but he did not like the look of it. The triangle symbol was also engraved onto the metal, which gleamed darkly. What was he supposed to do with this? But when Diath grabbed a torch from the wall and walked into the room, illuminating its occupants, Paultin began to have an idea.

The torchlight flickered over two prisoners bound in iron chains on the floor, a large muscular woman with half-orc features, and a scrawny bearded man. The man whimpered as Diath approached, and the rogue laughed and aimed a kick at his ribs, causing him to fold over. The woman glared at Diath but said nothing.

"Paultin, I'd like to introduce you to Rulissa and Kagen, my two exes. They were once handed that card you're now holding, but as you can see, they failed in their mission."

The man-_Kagen?_-began to inch towards Paultin as far as the chains would allow. "Please sir, he's gone mad! Don't listen to him!"

Paultin was quite ready to accept that Diath had indeed gone mad. _What was this?_ Sure, he and Diath had messed around with the whole 'good cop, bad cop' routine, and he had even tortured that doppelganger for information on Manshoon, but this was different. Diath had been hurt by these two, from what little Paultin could recall of the time an elvan bard had decided to buy fifty pies and for whatever reason they had all decided to spill their backstories to her. But if Diath already had them tied up, what more was there to do? And what was he expecting _Paultin_ to do?

"I know they're not Sandra's murderers, but sadly, I discovered those people were already dead. So instead, I'll give you the pleasure of taking it out on these two. Don't worry, I'll get my own satisfaction by watching you work."

Shocked, Paultin grabbed Diath and pulled him back out into the hallway. When they were out of sight of the two prisoners, he hissed at the rogue, "What the hell, dude?!"

Diath's eyes narrowed. "I told you her murderers are out of reach. So if you want your revenge, these will have to do."

"That's not what I meant!" growled Paultin in frustration. But what exactly _did_ he mean? What had he planned to do if he ever actually met those responsible? _Did_ he want to dish out the same pain that had once been dealt to him, or was it enough just to know that they were dead? Apparently, that was already the case... so what now?

"You've been given a chance here, Paultin. Don't blow it."

The only thing Paultin knew for sure was that he was _not_ going to torture two people tied up helplessly on the ground, even if Diath told him they deserved it. There were dark things Paultin had done in his past that he still hadn't fully lived down: agreeing to work for Strahd so that he could escape his castle, using Falkon's falling body to cushion his _own_ as they fell, creating a simulacrum of himself to fool his family into thinking he had forgiven them, and then drawing them into the Shadowfell to destroy them. Sure, the last two happened while he was wearing the Ring of Winter, but could he be certain there wasn't some part of him that actually agreed with those plans? Whatever the case was then, he knew that _now_, he was in control of his own actions.

Paultin tossed the knife onto the ground. "Do your own dirty work, Diath," the bard muttered in disgust.

A chuckle from the doorway startled him, and Paultin spun around to see the last person he would have ever expected.


	8. Everything's Fine!

A.N.: I had to take a short break to figure out in what order I wanted the different POV stories told. The story is going to get wild, and while I willingly accept some of the blame, the plot behind the _Descent_ module itself is a little crazy. It doesn't help that at the same time, I'm trying to weave in some of the Acq Inc story, as well as the Lorcatha-Skizziks-Asmodeus lore (or my best guess at what Chris was planning), and other loose threads like Sandra, Daith's exes, and what happened to the original Simon and one or two other forgotten characters. I did my best at having it all follow some kind of overarching plot.

* * *

"That was my last fireball, Nat!" called out Jenks in a strained voice. His spell had done a good job of wiping out most of the weaker monsters that surrounded them, but too many undead were still on their feet, shambling slowly towards them.

Simon wiped the sweat from his brow and readjusted the grip on Treebane. They must have been hacking away at these creatures for at least an hour. The Flaming Fist and the other poor souls they had drafted were still back near the entrance of the tunnels, being kept sufficiently busy by small-fry that the former urchins had decided were too weak to be worth their time. Nat had insisted that they go deeper in and finish off the cultists or whoever kept summoning all of these waves of undead.

He watched as Waffles bowled over several skeletons that had surrounded Shem, causing them to fall apart. Her cub tried to imitate her and successfully pushed over a zombie, who swatted at Ferdinand irritably.

"Too bad Martem got himself possessed," muttered Squiddly, who shot at more skeletons, though his arrows seemed to have little effect. Lucy diligently ran after his spent ammunition, chittering angrily as the monsters tried to grab her.

Nat nodded, yanking her sword out of a zombie she had just dismembered. "Yeah, we could really use a cleric right about now."

Suddenly something stirred within the pile of dead corpses at Simon's feet. The barbarian couldn't help himself and stumbled backwards in surprise as a body rose up and turned its head to study them with its empty sockets.

"Did someone here call for a cleric?" it asked in a raspy voice.

Squiddly made a sound of exasperation. "How are you back up? I just killed you!"

The monster had grayish skin pulled tightly over its face, with a surprising amount of thin white hair still clinging to its scalp. Two small beads of red light emanated from where its eyes should be, marking it as a different creature from the zombies and wights the former urchins had been fighting so far. Simon thought back to Grandfather Richten's notes, and realized that this thing met the description of a revenent. And what his notes said about _those_ was-

"I can't _die_ young man, that would defeat the purpose of my existence! I must tarry here until my task is done."

Simon glanced at the symbol of the Morninglord faintly discernible on the revenent's armor, and cried out in sudden recognition, "Sir Godfrey!"

The undead knight cocked its head at him and asked, "Do I know you?"

Simon tried to explain that he probably looked different since he wasn't a puppet any more and had now grown up, but was suddenly accosted by several undead who had snuck up on him while he was talking. As he began batting them away, Godfrey grumbled something about 'poor form', and cried out Krisperkins's name. In an instant, all of the enemies surrounding them turned to dust.

"That was a prayer," Jenks said in surprise, pointing an accusing finger at Godfrey. "But you're an undead!"

The revenent harrumphed to himself. "Yes, well, obviously I cast that at too low a level to affect _me._" He then turned to Waffles and added, "And I guess it was too low to take care of that foul creature. Maybe I should still try to- Great Scott! Is that _Waffles?_"

The owlbear completely ignored Godfrey and the rest of the group, and began heading for the next chamber. Simon noted that the others were now staring at Godfrey with dumbfounded expressions, but explanations would have to wait.

"C'mon, we can't lose sight of her!" Simon called out, racing after the owlbear. He need not have worried, as the next room appeared to be a dead end. Waffles was nevertheless clawing at the far wall, as if there was something hidden beyond it.

"Hey now, none of _that!"_ grumbled a voice, and Simon looked up to see a small alcove in the wall above where the owlbear was scratching. Placed inside it was what looked to be a human skull, partially plated in gold with a barbed letter_ S_ on its forehead. Strange gears were slowly rotating on the sides of its head, which appeared to be linked to a mechanism within the wall itself.

"Hey mister knight, you missed one!" Squiddly pointed out gleefully, seeming excited to watch Godfrey perform his trick again.

The revenent looked up at the skull and said, "Mimir, so that's where you ended up! I warned you to stop insulting our hosts."

The skull in the wall snorted in disgust. "Kidnappers, you mean! These Umbra charlatans are nothing like my masters on the Shadow Council. I will never share with them my reports on the C-team!"

"The Umbra?" said Shem in surprise, looking to Nat for confirmation. "I thought the Flaming Fist wanted us along to help them clear out a nest of Dead Three cultists."

Godfrey shrugged. "They have necromantic powers, that's for certain. Their magic drew me here, along with all undead for miles around. I had hoped it might also bring Strahd, who I have sworn to kill and avenge my brotherhood of knights."

"Actually, the Waffle Crew already killed him," said Simon apologetically, feeling somewhat bad for the poor revenent.

"The Waffle Crew?" repeated Godfrey in surprise. "Yes, it all makes sense! It must be my debt to them that still binds me here. Well then, my good puppet, take me to your family and let us be done with it!"

Waffles was still pawing madly at the wall. Nat frowned and asked the skull, "What is she trying to get at?"

Mimir hummed to itself, pretending not to hear her. Godfrey then asked the skull in a gentle voice, "Come, my friend, can't you aid these fine people? We share no love for the Umbra, and will avenge the injustices they meted upon you."

The skull stopped humming and narrowed its eyesockets at them. "Very well. I was trying to protect you from what is certain to be your deaths, but since you're _already_ dead..."

The wall suddenly lifted up, and Waffles wasted no time bounding down the dark tunnel before them. Godfrey bowed to Mimir, then cast a _light_ spell and took the lead. They could see up ahead that the passage opened up into a large chamber. Standing directly at its center was Diath, at whose feet Waffles now lay obediently. The rogue smirked at them.

"Took you guys long enough to get here."

* * *

**~SOME TIME IN SIGIL'S PAST~**

*Are you sure you want to do this?* Gutter asked, as Diath was poised to insert his second-to-last key inside it.

"I can't afford to put it off any longer," Diath replied grimly, surprised he had waited even _this_ long. But the more Strix began showing her pregnancy, the more panicked he became. She still hadn't realized what it meant, and assumed she was simply gaining weight. Diath did not feel at all prepared to bring up the subject to her, nor what the implications might be if it cost him his soul.

When he had been a young boy, he remembered his mother telling him that just before he was born, his father disappeared and never returned home. He had abandoned his family, and Diath had an inkling that the loss of the lorcatha soul was the reason. Would Diath also turn into a selfish jerk the moment the soul passed on to his child, or would he instead become one of the empty-eyed, emotionless citizens of Barovia who had been born without one? Or would he simply die and cease to exist?

Who then would protect Strix and the baby from Shemeshka?

Diath twisted the key inside the pommel of his sword, hoping the arcanoloth might have an answer. At least this time he had a way to make _certain_ she would cooperate. To his great surprise, he had indeed found Shemeshka's spellbook in the library, hidden inside a secret compartment she had no doubt thought was secure. But Diath was a skillful thief with a lot of time on his hands, and had managed to pick its many locks. With the spellbook as a matrix he could use to translate the strange arcanoloth alphabet, he was finally able to discern that Binwin's book was a list of arcanoloth true names, listed alongside their common aliases. And there, near the top, he had discovered what he hoped would be the solution to all their problems.

A glowing portal materialized in front of him, and the fox-headed fiend stepped out daintily in her usual extravagant attire. But for once, Diath did not feel afraid.

"Yes, my boy? What can I help you with?" she drawled in her usual arrogant tone.

The rogue took a deep breath and braced himself. "I demand that you let Strix and I go free, and never bother either of us again!" he stated clearly, then spoke the bizarre-sounding name that he had practiced many times in secret until he was certain he had it right. Shemeshka backed away from him suddenly, her eyes wide in alarm.

"How did you- WHO TOLD YOU?!"

"That's not important," spoke Diath, confident now that_ he_ was the one in charge. "We won't be a part of your game any longer, and neither will our child."

The arcanoloth straightened itself as if insulted. "You don't realize all of the trouble I have gone through to keep all of you safe here. Asmodeus is unable to reach you _because of me!_ The good and evil in the multiverse remain in balance _thanks to me!_ Without my protection, what do you think is going to happen to you?"

"We'll find a way," said Strix adamantly as she strode in to the room. Diath felt his mouth drop. How long had she been standing there listening? Yet as she came up beside him and put a hand around his arm, he could feel that she was trembling.

"That's a touching sentiment, but do you really think you can evade _all_ of Asmodeus's forces scattered around Sigil? Even if it requires breaking the City's truce to get his hands on you and your child, he will risk the wrath of the Lady of Pain. You are _that_ important to him."

Strix eyed Diath fearfully. "So it's true-I really have our kid inside me?" she asked, motioning towards her swollen belly. Diath remembered the innocent questions Strix had once posed about where babies came from, and how willing she had been to carry a hag child, not understanding what it meant. She turned to Shemeshka. "Why does our child matter so much to Asmodeus?"

"Your offspring is his last chance to take over the multiverse," the fox-headed woman explained, though Diath knew that she was under no obligation to answer Strix. "He _had_ hoped the two of you would continue to blatantly ignore the Ashtown Concordance and disrupt the tenuous balance between good and evil, allowing more incursions of his forces into the material planes, as you saw happen in Nightstone. But then Rosie Beestinger offered a solution, and he had to accept it. Now, his only alternative is to invade the Upper Planes and force them to take part in the Blood War. The archdevil Zariel, once an angel herself, is poised to return to the Celestial Planes and coerce or corrupt as many of her old comrades as she can. All she needs is a way in." Shemeshka then pulled the pair of magical spectacles from a chain around her neck, reminding them what she had once said about Mr. Fox's glasses being a portkey to all dimensions. "Needless to say, he will not get his hands on_ these_," she assured them, tucking the chain back into her dress.

"So you're trying to tell us you're one of the 'good guys' in all this?" Strix scoffed. "You're a fiend, just like Asmodeus!"

Shemeshka shrugged. "And yet you will find that our goals are quite different. Devils are lawful creatures that delight in twisting words and rules to trick and coerce other creatures into doing their bidding. _My_ kind, on the other hand-"

"You tricked Diath!" Strix insisted, surprising the rogue with how vocal and fearless she had become. He remembered when the mere sight of Shemeshka sent her scurrying to a corner to hide.

"Did I? I stated quite clearly from the start that I would answer three questions within my scope of knowledge in exchange for a key. Out of the kindness of my heart, I then made two additional deals that mutually benefited everyone. I saved you all from Klauth the dragon, and you managed to deactivate the bomb. Bringing the two of you to my home for your own safety was a bonus gift on my part, I might add," she said, tapping the end of her cigarette holder for emphasis.

"I spoke your_ true name,_" Diath reminded Shemeshka. "You can't hurt us now. But that doesn't mean we're going to believe everything you say."

The fox-headed creature snorted. "Arcanoloths care deeply about knowledge; we take no pleasure in twisting truth into lies. But yes, we _are_ selfish, greedy, and only follow the rules and moral standards set by _lower beings_ when it suits us. You can take comfort that for now, your welfare is in my best interest. After all, I have invested a great deal of time and effort in your family."

"Your soul piece!" said Strix suddenly, shaking Diath in her excitement. "Make her tell you where it is!"

Shemeshka's eyes narrowed. "Someone's been telling secrets. Who have you been talking to?"

"It doesn't matter. You'll hand it over _now,_" said Diath firmly, though he wasn't even sure what he was going to do with it. All this time, he had tried his best to avoid thinking about the things that others claimed made him 'special': his ancient soul, his familial ties to celestials, his earliest memories living in Sigil where a hooded stranger had handed him a set of mysterious keys. That was before he found himself whisked away to the streets of Waterdeep, where he was forced to earn a living even at that young age. His story was not so much different from Strix's, but he avoided sharing it with the others. He told them that he was a treasure hunter and _not a thief_, but that had not always been true. Yet when Rulissa and Kagen left him, they had also freed him from that life. He was able to start down a new path, one he could take pride in. He was Diath Woodrow, a rogue of many talents, and in all ways that counted, _a normal human being._

The arcanoloth surprised them by raising her hands in a helpless gesture. "I'm afraid I'm unable to do that," she admitted in a sing-song voice. "The soul fragment is no longer in my possession."

Diath exchanged a worried glance with Strix before focusing his angry gaze at the fiend. "You said you've been trying to protect us, but you just_ happened_ to lose a piece of my soul?"

"I did not _lose it_," she snapped back irritably. "It remains hidden, but not here. It will be revealed at the proper time _and not a moment sooner,_ for your own safety and that of the multiverse."

"Fine, but we're still leaving! C'mon Strix," growled Diath, pulling her with him towards the mansion door. But to his surprise, Strix was dragging her feet.

"W-wait Diath. What if she's right? If Asmodeus is after me, fine! He can sic all the Skizziks and devils in Sigil on me and I'll burn as many of them to a crisp as I can before he takes me." Diath was about to angrily protest, remembering how Strix had been ready to give herself up to the Mercykillers the last time had been dragged to Sigil. Yet before he could say anything, she continued, "-But I can't let him do that if it means he'll take our baby. If Shemeshka says we'll be safe with her, even after you spoke her name, then maybe this is where we need to stay."

Diath wanted to argue that they could take care of themselves, but could they? Strix knew Sigil far better than he did, and if even_ she_ was worried...

He made a deep sigh of resignation. "All right Strix, but not for long. Just give me time to come up with a plan."

"Marvelous," grinned Shemeshka, revealing her sharp fangs.

* * *

Simon patted down the dusty outfit marking him as an employee of the Wandering Emporium, and quickly ran over as the owner beckoned him towards his next client. This one was a disgusting hag wrapped in leather armor and wearing an outlandish pair of goggles on her head. Simon wondered what he was expected to do for her, when the crone actually began disrobing right in front of him! The owner, Mahadi the rakshasa, patted Simon on the shoulder and said, "Give her a massage, she paid for an hour!" before quickly rushing out of the room.

_"Welcome to the Waffle Crew,"_ muttered the puppet under his breath.

"What's that, dearie?" screeched the hag, who had thankfully by this point turned around and lay down with her body flat against the massage table. Simon was quick to fetch the steamed towels and began covering up every inch of her he could get away with.

"Welcome to the Infernal Rapture Restaurant and Spa," Simon corrected, wondering why he had bothered to say that other phrase. It had often been used by the rogue Diath whenever something bad was about to befall their group, as if disaster were commonplace with them. To that, Simon would have to agree, and yet it was what made hanging out with the Waffle Crew so interesting. It had been fun following them on their adventures and being treated like a member of their family. Except for Diath of course, who always looked down on him_ just because Simon had accidentally shot someone in self-defense_. Which was odd, because as far as Simon knew, none of the Crew had actually witnessed him do it. He also strongly suspected that Diath was the one who had killed his friend Arabelle, which made the hypocrisy against him all the more irritating. Still, those had probably been the best days of Simon's life. Certainly better than being trapped in Strahd's castle and stuck entertaining the vampire's guests, many of whom Simon ended up killing. He supposed that was what got his soul assigned to the hells. Simon wasn't proud of those days, but back then, he had felt that being wrapped inside of a rug for several years had been a good enough punishment.

Now, here in hell, he had learned a whole new level of torture.

"Rub deeper, honey! Really dig those fingers into the creases!"

Simon bit his tongue to keep from making any snide remarks. The gift of speech - which was something that happened out of the blue a few years ago, much to his amazement - often got him into more trouble than his darts ever did. Now he was stuck as one of Mahadi's employees, probably for the rest of his life.

Suddenly Simon felt himself lifted into the air by a pair of clawed hands. The massage tent was filled with werewolves, carelessly knocking over objects and sniffing everything. The hag screeched and cursed, but before Simon could see what she might do next, he was swiftly carried away under one of the creatures' arms.

Simon tried to fight free, knowing that Mahadi was going to find some way to blame this all on him. Unless he went back and explained himself, there were sure to be another hundred years of service added to his contract.

"Careful with him! Bring him to me!"

Simon's head whirled around 180 degrees to look up in amazement as he heard the familiar voice of Evelyn. Was the Crew really here to rescue him? After all these years in hell, he had just about given up hope that his family still remembered he existed.

Simon was caught by surprise, however, at seeing his mother back in her werewolf form. He could recognize it easily - after all, no other werewolves _he_ had ever seen had a coat of shiny white and golden fur. But hers was now wreathed in dark smoke, the way Simon recalled the evil werewolf leader's had been, back at the cabin where Simon had finally caught up to the Crew. Even more frightening, she carried in her grip a giant flaming sword. It looked just like the sword the yakfolk chief had used to put down Paultin. That horrible scene had been what had driven Simon to defy his father's orders and shoot the chief with a poisoned dart until he too, lay dead. And then the earth elemental had come after Simon in revenge... and Simon had awoken to find himself in hell.

The werewolf put Simon down carefully in front of Evelyn. But seeing her now wielding the very sword that had killed his father, and radiating a cloud of black energy, Simon had no desire to get any closer.

"What's wrong Simon? It's me, your mama," she said, sounding hurt and confused. But then Simon recognized another familiar figure standing next to her, and ran over to Strix in relief. He wrapped his arms around her leg, shielding himself from view behind her many layers of dark robes.

Before anyone could say more, Simon spotted Mahadi angrily pushing his way through the pack until he stood directly before Evelyn. The tiger-headed monster motioned at the other werewolves and then at Simon, and demanded, "What is the meaning of all this?"

"Mind your own business, fiend," seethed Evelyn, swiping the air with the flaming greatsword. "You wouldn't be the first of your kind I've killed." The other werewolves began to growl, sensing that a fight was imminent. Mahadi looked worriedly at the surrounding pack, then shouted, "Raggadragga, get out here and control your creatures now!"

The wereboar appeared suddenly out of nowhere, looking very flustered. A hag Simon didn't recognize followed a step behind him. "Is there a problem? I was just showing my lady friend the Emporium and-" Raggadragga blinked in confusion at the sight of Evelyn waving a sword at Mahadi. "Wot's this? Have you gone mad? Where's Korn?"

"I lead the wolves now," snarled Evelyn, and the black smoke around her intensified.

"I swear, this isn't my doing! They said they were envoys sent by Asmodeus. I was only giving them a ride here!" Raggadragga hastily explained, grabbing Mahadi's arm.

"Really?" said the fiend, who studied Evelyn, Strix and the hag intently. "What are your names?"

"Mahadi, just what kind of a spa are you running here?!" screeched the hag Simon had been pampering earlier. She also quickly made her way through the circle of werewolves, who hastily made space for her. Even if she hadn't been barely covered up in towels, they all had the sense not to want to get too close. When the hag spotted Raggadragga, she stared at him in shock. _"You!"_

"Maggie! I'm sorry of my wolves had anything to do with all this," said the wereboar, though he seemed rather flustered seeing her only half dressed. "If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to finish your massage myself."

The rakshasa growled. "My servant will finish your massage, as per our transaction!" He then looked down at where Simon was hiding behind Strix and shouted, "Get back to the tent, now!" His eyes then roved up to Strix's face and his brow creased in consternation. "Who did you say you were?"

"By the light of Lathander, I won't let you or anyone else take Simon away from me again!" cried Evelyn, and she swung down her sword. But then suddenly something strange happened. Time seemed to stop, with even the flames on Evelyn's sword apparently frozen. But Maggie the hag was still moving, as were Strix and the hag that had followed Raggadragga. So was an imp that Simon only now noticed, whose wing flaps were the only sound anyone could hear - until the old hag spoke to him.

"It's too bad you don't still have any of your sleep darts, honey," muttered Maggie, startling Simon as she walked up to Evelyn and tapped his mother's shoulder. "I'm guessing this one isn't going to come along quietly."

"What did you do?" cried Strix fearfully.

The hag cackled. "You don't get to be my age without learning a trick or two," she answered. "But the effect won't last forever. I have one of my vehicles parked a short ways from here. Carry your friend along if you don't mind."

She then looked down at Simon and told him, "You're coming too."

Simon was not about to argue. "Welcome to the Waffle Crew," he muttered again softly, shaking his head.


	9. Soul Searching

A.N.: Things might feel a little out of sequence in places, since the parties have split apart even further, and I can only show one POV at a time. Just trust that if things seem to be jumping forward, we will eventually go back and see how the characters got there.

* * *

Paultin stood frozen in utter shock at the sight of his wife Sandra standing casually in the doorway, a pleased smile on her face. She reached out to the bard and wrapped her arms around him, then pressed her lips against his hungrily. His body went through the motions, returning her embrace as he would have five years earlier, but his mind was still reeling. _What was going on here? His wife was dead!_

"I see you really missed me," the woman smiled, but her voice was sad. "Oh, I'm sorry I put you through all that sweetie. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you to carry on without me."

Still struggling to make sense of it, Paultin could only blurt out, "_How?_"

Sandra ran her fingers through his raven black hair, which he realized must look strange since he had previously been blond. With a slight frown, she answered, "I didn't have a choice. The Umbra were after the books of prophecy my master had entrusted to me. I killed the assassins they sent, then tried to cover up one of their corpses to make it look like _I_ had died instead. That way I figured they'd leave you alone."

Paultin shook his head at her in disbelief. "You could've let me know you were alive. I would have found a way to rescue you!"

She chuckled at him, a sound he never thought he'd hear again. "Ah sweetie, let's be honest - you were a mess even then. What good could you have done against a force as powerful as the Umbra?"

Paultin felt hurt by her mocking tone. "Hey, I've gotten stronger! And I made it here, haven't I? I came to avenge what I _thought_ was your murder."

"I know, I know, sweetheart. That's the whole reason Diath and I felt that you were finally ready to take the next step."

Suddenly remembering Diath and his shady proposition from a few moments ago, Paultin spun on his heels to face him. "_You knew!_ You knew Sandra was alive this whole time and said _nothing!_"

Diath raised his hands in apology. "I didn't _always_ know. But after I returned from Sigil, I decided to pay the Umbra a visit. That's when they explained to me their ultimate purpose, and I decided to help Asmodeus seize the multiverse."

Paultin lunged at Diath, wishing he still had the knife. But the bard felt himself restrained, and realized in surprise that Sandra had locked him in an unusually tight grip.

"Don't forget, our allies in the Flaming Fist should be delivering those other friends of yours any minute now," she told the rogue. Diath nodded to her, and then to Paultin.

"Good luck Paultin. I hope you make the right choice, so that we can see each other again." He then raced down the corridor, leaving Paultin and Sandra alone. She slowly released him from her grasp, but he knew that she was ready to catch him again if he tried to run off in pursuit of Diath. He glared at her, unable to believe that this was really his wife.

"What happened to you?" he demanded. "Are you really working for _them,_ after they tried to kill you?"

Sandra straightened proudly. "I did what I had to to_ survive._ They figured out that I'd escaped alive, and they wouldn't stop coming after me - even after I burned their precious books."

Paultin studied her face, trying to judge whether she was being truthful. "So you didn't tell Asmodeus any secrets? You're not helping him the way Diath is?"

Her face twitched slightly, and Paultin's heart fell. "I didn't know much. He's after some kind of angelic soul. What does that have to do with me? I'm no angel, and I never pretended to be. Fate dealt the two of us a rotten hand, sweetie; don't you remember? That's why at our wedding we swore that only _our_ lives mattered, and that we'd make anyone who wronged us pay twice as dearly."

"So... you're only pretending to work for the Umbra? You're secretly trying to undermine them somehow?" he asked, still clutching to hope.

Sandra shrugged, then shook her head. "No. Maybe at first some part of me thought I might... but no. There's no way to beat them. No point neither; I mean, how are you gonna stop a god? Asmodeus will get his way, and the best we can do is hope for some kind of reward after the world is put back together. That's why I asked Diath to bring you here, sweetie. I want you to be with me when it's all over." She reached down and picked up Diath's knife, then pressed it forcefully into his hand. "Take it. You _have to_."

Paultin remembered that there were still the prisoners tied up in the room behind him. "You really think I'm going to kill those two people back there?" he asked her, keeping his expression neutral.

Sandra looked down at him sternly. "You said it yourself - you're not a lowly street musician any more. You've seen your share of death. Once you kill them, you'll take their place in the organization. I'm asking you to do this one simply thing for _me_... for _us._ The man I married wouldn't hesitate to do what I asked."

Paultin shook his head, and felt a tear roll down his cheek. "You're right, he wouldn't have. But I'm not that guy any more, Sandra. Instead, I'm gonna ask _you_ for a favor. I want you to let those two guys go free, and escape out of this place. I promise you, there won't be any of them left to come after you when I'm done here."

He didn't want to force _Suggestion_ on her, but he could see the resistance in her eyes. He realized that she wasn't going to be able to do it otherwise. He let loose some of his bardic magic and Vistani power, and repeated loudly enough for the two prisoners to overhear: "All of you are free. All of you are to leave Baldur's Gate for good, and never return here or to Waterdeep. You're to make a new life for yourselves. And we'll never cross paths again."

He could see the surprised look on her face - and maybe a hint of gratitude? - as she went into the room and unchained Diath's exes. The three of them then hastily fled down the tunnel Paultin had come from. He kept his eyes on Sandra until she vanished into the darkness.

*That didn't turn out the way I thought it would* remarked the voice of Perkins in his head. *You're a good man, Paultin*

"Don't speak too soon," the bard growled, clutching the knife as he proceeded down the corridor Diath had taken.

* * *

**~SOME TIME IN SIGIL'S PAST~**

_"The time is near. A vessel will be born to deliver our lord Asmodeus to the heavens, and all worlds shall be his forever more!"_

Strix was already in the throes of a nightmare, but those words repeated over and over above her bed caused her to bolt upright and shriek out in alarm. The two Cassalanter children stared back at her with blank expressions, hardly fazed by her scream. As they again began to recite their foreboding verse, Diath appeared in the doorway and glared at them. He wasted no time in shooing them out the door, then slammed it in their faces.

Strix wrapped herself in her blankets, shivering. "I thought Asmodeus couldn't touch them here. I thought we were safe from him!"

Diath shook his head uncertainly. "I don't think he can come here himself. But the Cassalanters did have a contract with Asmodeus that gave him a right to their kids' souls; maybe that's enough to let him reach out to them somehow."

"And what about _my_ soul?" worried Strix. "He had some kind of contract with the Skizziks. Could that make him control _me?_ Or let him control _our child?_ Isn't that what Shemeshka said he wanted?"

"You're not a Skizziks any more, remember that!" said Diath firmly. "And besides... it's not your soul he's after. It's mine. At least for the short time that I still have it."

Strix narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you hiding more secrets? What do you mean a 'short time'?"

Rather than answer, Diath held out Gutter to her. Strix stared at the malevolent sword fearfully. Diath hated that weapon, and used it as sparingly as possible. Why would he be handing it to her?

"Take it, Strix. Please."

She saw both pain and fear in his eyes, but knew that Daith would never intentionally put her in danger. She took the sword from him. Instantly, Strix felt a foreign presence make the barest contact with her mind, as if tentatively probing it. To her relief, it did not try to reach further into her thoughts, but instead spoke aloud so that they both could hear.

*You will do* the sword said in a satisfied tone.

Strix shook the weapon angrily. "What does that mean?!" she cried.

Diath sighed. "That's the first I've heard Gutter speak for weeks. I've had my suspicions, but now this proves it."

"Proves what?" barked Strix, still upset.

"That I'm losing the Lorcatha soul. That it's being passed on to our child."

Strix stopped shaking Gutter, and instead stared at the fox-headed pommel as if addressing a person. "Is that true?"

*I was forged for the Woodrow family. I am meant to be with them*

"But I'm not a Woodrow," said the trash witch in confusion, looking to Diath. "That takes a wedding, doesn't it? Not that I'm an expert or anything, since I've only ever been to the one the C Team had for for Walnut and Brahma." Her thoughts wandered to the ceremony Omin had asked her help with, to make sure that it invoked the same type of magic van Richten had used. "I even dressed in a raven costume I put together, just like for Paultin back when we used Evelyn's rings to..." She stopped in mid-sentence as a strange realization struck her.

Diath looked at her curiously. "What?"

She reached out and grabbed the rogue's hand. "van Richen was a _priest._ He made us do the same ceremony as Walnut and Brahma, using the _same rings._ What if-"

Strix could see dawning realization appear on Diath's face. "You think he married us?"

*Your souls are bonded* affirmed Gutter, startling them. *From that union, a new soul is in the process of being forged*

Strix had almost forgotten the worrisome news that Diath had shared with her moments ago, hinting that he would not be in possession of his soul for much longer. Panicked, Strix stared back down at Gutter. "How do we let Diath keep his soul!?" she demanded.

"Gutter doesn't have the answer," Diath said flatly. "I was going to ask Shemeshka the last time I called her, but then I used her true name and she vanished after we told her we'd stay at the mansion. I don't know if doing that broke whatever deal she had with my family, and that she won't give us answers any more."

Still holding the sword in her hand, Strix looked down at her swollen belly. Her child - their child - was taking over Diath's soul. It was innocent; it didn't know that it was doing anything wrong, but it was harming Diath all the same. If she had to sacrifice their baby to save the one person who meant everything in the world to her, could she do it?

Strix watched the point of the weapon turn towards the center of her body. As if in slow motion, she saw her other hand reach towards the pommel, and felt her arms gather strength for the thrust. She saw Diath's eyes widen, but he seemed too frozen in shock to react. His lightning-quick reflexes might have been able to stop her, but not this time.

Yet Strix's mind was still clear, and her thoughts raced. A scene from her childhood flashed before her eyes. It was here in Sigil, in her foster mother Imbriss's bakery, where she had witnessed a monster murder the first family she had ever known. All of the orphans the kind bariaur had taken in were slaughtered in front of her. They had been innocent too, and had never been given the chance to live. For whatever reason, _Strix_ had been left alive, and that survivor's guilt had haunted her most of her life. It had also been the force that had driven her to fight back at monsters and help others in need, as Imbriss had. But if Strix killed this child inside her, she would be no better than that monster.

The blade stopped, and time finally unfroze. Diath's hand quickly pulled the sword out of her hands and tossed it across the room. "No Strix! I won't have you do that for me. You're not that kind of person."

"I wanted to help-" she tried to explain, but she was at a loss for words. She felt like a failure, and began to cry.

Diath shook his head. "This is *my* burden, Strix, not yours. Our child has to be kept safe." To her surprise, Diath took off his vest and began emptying out all of his secret pockets and pouches.

With a sniffle, she asked, "Diath, what are you doing?"

Atop her bed, he created a pile of treasured objects - his last key, the horn of silent alarm, the drow secretary's bag of holding, the Waterdeep Captain's badge, the eyeglass, wooden eyeball, smoking pipe, a silver whistle in the shape of a wolf, the butt rock, Magnus's stone of farspeech, a black padlock, Moonsplinter, and the doll of himself that Strix had made him - and pushed the items towards her.

"Here Strix, take them. Maybe they can still help you, or the baby when they're older."

Strix looked up at him in alarm. "You're leaving me?"

"I don't know what will happen after the entire soul is drained out of me," he admitted bitterly. "I might turn into a different person. I'm not sure I can trust myself to protect you after that, Strix. But one more thing I can do is take those Cassalanter kids with me. That way, I can be sure they're far away from here when the moment happens."

She fell into even greater depths of despair than she thought possible. Strix could barely move. "I'm alone again..."

Diath shook her shoulders forcibly, but could not snap her out of it. Then he surprised her by bending down and kissing her. Warmth flowed back into her body, and with it came a sense of hope. Of course she would see Diath again. He was the cleverest person she had ever known, and even death had failed to stop him..._twice!_ This was only a temporary goodbye.

"Take some of this stuff back," she insisted after she had caught her breath. "I need you to stay alive so that you can join up with me when it's safe." She pushed most of the pile back towards him, but kept the horn, the pipe (she had given Purloque one just like it!), the eye (not as nice as the basilisk one she had given Critter), and the stone of farspeech. Diath frowned, but acquiesced.

"Fine, then here." He undid the knot of the leather strap around his neck, then handed the amethyst pendant to her. She looked at it in surprise, knowing that it was his dearest treasure.

"Diath, I can't-"

"Take it. Give it to our kid, so they have something to...something of mine to hold on to until I can see them." He glanced towards Gutter lying on the ground at the far end of the room, then added in a whisper, "I don't know what Shemeshka's plans are. She might be telling the truth about helping us, but I still don't trust her. One thing I learned from the arcanoloth book was how important names are to their kind. When our baby is born, make sure you name them 'Shemeshka'. It should still offer some amount of protection against her, even if it isn't her_ true_ name. And be careful with Gutter. You still have the key I gave you in Chult, right?" Strix nodded. "Don't use it unless you absolutely have to."

A pang of fear chilled her as she watched Diath get up off the bed, but she tried to put on a brave face for him. "Good luck, Diath Woodrow. Don't make me wait too long to see you again."

He smiled back at her roguishly. "Goodbye for now, Strix Woodrow."

Then he was gone.

* * *

Evelyn groggily awoke to find herself still in her were-Pomeranian form, but somehow she no longer seemed to be in the deserted wastelands of Avernus. There were blades of soft grass beneath her body, and the sound of running water nearby. But as she looked up at the blood-red, sunless sky, she realized in disappointment that this was not her home, and anger began to mingle with the despair she had carried inside her ever since their arrival in hell.

The fiends inhabiting this world would never allow a servant of good such as herself to leave, she realized. They would toy with her using illusions such as this idyllic scene of nature. They would tempt her with hope and false promises, only to snatch them away at the last second and laugh at her. Evelyn felt her claws squeeze into fists. If any of those devils dared come anywhere near her, she would teach them the meaning of torture and pain. She began to imagine herself ripping into their flesh, seeing their smirking faces change into howls of horror, and felt a surge of satisfied pleasure.

Just then, a small winged devil dropped down and hovered beside her head. "Hey, you finally awake?"

Evelyn growled and lunged at him with her snapping jaws. The small imp was quick enough to dive out of the way. But their antics caused someone behind Evelyn to cackle in amusement. She snarled and jumped to her feet, whipping her head around to see who was about to become her next victim.

It was a hag. Evelyn had not encountered one since their escapades in Barovia, but those three had caused her group enough difficulties that she hesitated now in attacking this one.

"A wise choice," nodded the crone, as if reading her thoughts.

Evelyn suddenly remembered Simon, and she began looking around for him frantically. Luckily she soon spotted the puppet a short distance behind her, pouring black sand into a long line that encircled her. Sitting on opposite ends of the circle with their eyes closed were Shard and Strix, as well as two skulls that had been placed beside them.

"What's going on here?" asked Evelyn angrily, feeling strangely threatened by whatever occult ceremony was being performed around her.

The hag took her own spot upon the circle, and the line of sand began to sizzle and give off a sulfurous odor.

"It's a ritual spell, of course. You see, honey, I went through a lot of trouble to get you and your friends out of that sticky situation with Mahadi. But there might be a way for you to pay me back. Trouble is, I'm not sure if your soul will be up to the task."

Evelyn barred her fangs at the hag. "You can go ask Acererak what happens when people try to take _my_ soul. It belongs to _me_ and Lathander. And if you think-"

The hag waved her clawed hand, and suddenly Evelyn found herself unable to speak. "You young people spend too much time talking and not enough time _listening._ I don't need your actual soul. I need a _paladin_ who's certain of their path, and strong enough to face what I need them to do. You've had a taste of evil since you've been here in Avernus. Question is, will it be enough?"

Everything around Evelyn suddenly turned black. Her werewolf senses could not pick up a single smell in the air, nor was there any sound or even a pinprick of light. She stayed completely still for a long moment, scared that she might accidentally step into some kind of trap. She almost gasped in relief when a deep voice echoed all around her.

"Does the darkness excite you? Or are you afraid."

She automatically reached over her shoulder to grab a weapon, only to grasp empty air. Growling in frustration, she spread open her claws, remembering that even disarmed, she was far from helpless.

"What are you, some kind of demon?" she called out to it, hoping that it would answer so that she could zero in on its position.

The speaker laughed. "No, I am no fiend. I'm a paladin, like yourself. Except that _I_ haven't lost my nerve."

"Big talk from someone who likes to hide in the shadows!" she called back, swinging her head from side to side.

Suddenly, a light shone down on a figure standing only a few feet in front of her. Evelyn backed away in surprise, staring up at a tall red-scaled dragonborn in obsidian armor. A five-pronged twirling star was emblazoned on his chestplate, a symbol Evelyn recognized from her training as belonging to Tiamat, the patron of evil dragons.

"You're no paladin," she breathed in horror, feeling subdued by his aura of dark power. "You've turned against the light... an oathbreaker!"

The dragonborn snarled at her. "Surely you are not so naive as to think that all paladins' oaths are sworn to the light?"

Evelyn thought back to her evil construct twin that her friends had fought against, but that she had never met. "I guess not..." she began, still doubtful, but then she had a sudden thought. "Did you break an oath to Tiamat, and now you're a good paladin?" she asked hopefully.

His eyes narrowed and he held out his left hand, which was as shriveled and grey as an undead claw, making Evelyn's instantly think of Handrew. But this appendage emitted a foul green energy that made her feel sick to her stomach.

"I have made many sacrifices to free my goddess," growled the evil paladin, and Evelyn wondered if he was about to offer her a way to free Lathander. Maybe he would replace her missing leg with an evil undead foot? But the dragonborn continued, "Don't mistake my intentions, however. I serve her only as a means to gain more power. For _that_ is the oath that I hold true to."

Now it was Evelyn's turn to scoff at him. "Paladins are supposed to love their gods, and believe in their message. It isn't about taking their power for yourself!"

The dragonborn seemed to grow even taller, making her quiver and wish she still had her aura of protection against fear. "_Their_ power? Do you really think the gods are the source of a paladin's strength? Gods are just tools we use to focus our abilities, but our might is our own! Our _will_ is what makes us powerful! And look at _you_, cowering there. What happened to _your _convictions? If they were as feeble as your dead god, it's no wonder you are so helpless."

Evelyn thought back to the oaths she had made - to kindle, shelter, preserve, and_ be_ the light. She had done those things in Lathander's name, even in Barovia where she could not sense his loving presence - and yet she had still had access to her holy powers back then. Could the dragonborn's words be true, and the power had come from inside her all along, instead of Lathander? Did... did that mean that even with Lathander gone, Evelyn could still go back to being a paladin?

"I broke my oaths once, but the vows I swore afterwards have made me even stronger." He nodded at Evelyn's werewolf shape, and at the wisps of black smoke that were starting to wrap themselves protectively around her. "You too have been granted a boon from the darkness. Submit yourself to it, accept is as yours, and allow yourself to grow. Forget the right and wrong of things - those will only get in your way. Cast your old oaths aside and swear to let nothing come between you and your destiny!"

He then brought his left hand forward and made a fist. "There is no limit to what you can achieve!" shouted the oathbreaker, his words reverberating in the darkness surrounding them

But just as the echoes faded, so too did the image of the dragonborn. In its place was someone Evelyn had not seen in a long time, and she raced forward in relief to hug him.

"Carrot! By Lathander, it's been forever!"

To her surprise, the blacksmith-turned-paladin did not return the embrace. With an expression of clear disappointment, he asked her, "Evelyn, what have you done to yourself?"

Looking down at her furry body, she felt suddenly ashamed, and willed herself back to her human shape. To her great relief, the armor was stretched out but still intact, and was sufficient to cover her nakedness.

"Sorry, I just used this form to help me fight. I'm not that strong any more; not since losing Lathander."

The long-bearded man sighed. "Arkhan was right about one thing. What makes you a paladin isn't the god you choose, but the devotion you feel towards their cause."

Evelyn tried to avoid his judging gaze, and attempted to steer the conversation towards something less awkward. "Arkhan huh? Was he really a paladin?"

Carrot humored her question. "Arkhan was once a hero back on the world I'm from. Now he's here in hell. I'm not sure if I feel more sorry for him or for the devils who are forced to have him as a neighbor. But that is neither here nor there. Evelyn, look at me."

She really didn't want to, but his kindly voice was hard to ignore. As she met his eyes, he told her, "Evelyn, you can return to being what you were. If that's what you really want."

She rubbed one foot against the other uncertainly. "I don't know if I deserve it. I've done some bad things since I've been here, I realize that. And this-" she said, motioning at the black smoke around her, "I don't think I can make it go away."

"The smoke means you have the Night Mother's favor. In hell, that means you've been marked by Shar."

Evelyn almost choked. _Shar_. That was who the other Evelyn had served. It was to slay vampires of Shar that her father had traveled into the Undermountain and sacrificed himself. And it was Shar who the goblin Sluggoth and his gang called _The Six_ had claimed to serve. How could Evelyn have allowed this to happen?

"Yeah, you sure messed up," agreed a familiar voice, but it was no longer that of her friend Carrot. Evelyn blinked her eyes in disbelief as the old man's shape was replaced by that of another dragonborn - one whose scales gleamed copper instead of red.

"Donaar?" said Evelyn in disbelief. "Is that really you?"

The C Team's paladin rubbed a clawed hand on his armor as if polishing it. "Yeah, it's me. Don't ask me how I got here, I don't really know. Last I checked, I was fighting the Sanguilith and then I got pulled into my brother's old sword and met this chair that was K'thriss's god I think? It's all kind of a blur. I got my brother out, though. It was pretty awesome."

"Is the Sanguilith gone now?" asked Evelyn hopefully. Maybe Lathander was finally free from its evil influence! Then it would be safe for everyone to worship him again, and that phony Krisperkins could go back to wherever he came from.

"Probably not," grimaced the dragonborn. "I've been trying to free my god though. I think we've almost got him out? Oh, and he had a message for me to give you. I scribbled it down somewhere." Donaar began rifling through his armor.

"The Sanguilith wants to give me a message?" repeated Evelyn in surprise.

"No, _Vars Melis -_ the only god that even matters! Hold on, here it is." Donaar cleared his throat and began reading from a torn piece of parchment. "The Six are using documancy learned from the Fundamental Court of Law to manipulate Shar's energies to serve their own ends. Yadda yadda... man this is long. Hold up, this part might be important-" Donaar squinted as if trying to interpret his own handwriting. "_Don't fear the darkness._ Does that make sense?"

It took Evelyn a moment for it to click, but she realized suddenly that it made perfect sense. "Yes, I think I know what I have to do."

Donaar sighed in relief. "Phew, well glad that's over. Think you can send me back now? Or-"

The dark landscape around Evelyn began to fade, returning her to Avernus. Maggie the hag now stood there, watching her expectantly.

"So, do I pass?" the paladin asked grimly.

The old crone grinned.


	10. Desperate Times

Simon stared at Diath warily, having a gut feeling that something here was very wrong.

"So this is where you and Paultin disappeared to?" asked Shem, looking around at the strange room they now found themselves in. There were black glyphs painted on the walls and the floor, barely discernible in the shadows. Godfrey's _light_ spell seemed to fade after only a few feet, as if something was suppressing its magic.

"And where _is_ my father?" Simon asked worriedly, not seeing any sign of him.

The rogue seemed pleased. "I managed to do what neither the Dark Powers nor the Raven Queen could. Paultin is becoming a member of the Umbra as we speak. He's finally accepted his destiny, and joined the winning side."

Simon braced himself to run at Diath with his axe, but Nat's hand shot out to restrain him. She used her other hand to gesture the words "caution" and "trap". The other former urchins also saw her message and nodded.

"That wasn't very nice of you," said the revenant knight disapprovingly. It seemed to take a few moments for Diath to recognize him.

"_Godfrey?_ What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was drawn to this place hoping to find the devil Strahd, but I learned you had defeated him. Now I am at the Waffle Crew's service, being in your debt."

Diath's mouth slowly twisted into a smile. "Really? Well then, as the only official member of the Waffle Crew here, I order you to dispose of these brats for me."

The knight looked back at him in alarm. "But...but that doesn't..."

"Put a pin in that!" shouted Paultin, appearing from out of a corridor opposite the one Simon and his group had come from. He seemed a bit out of breath, as if he had been running. Diath frowned at him.

"There couldn't have been enough time for you to kill my exes and be done with the initiation. So that means-"

Paultin pointed his palms outward at Diath and called out a _thunderwave_ spell. Waffles, who had been lying at his feet, quickly leapt up and intercepted the spell, which flung her across the room. Rather than be grateful for her gesture, Diath growled and said, "Stupid creature, my cloak would have nullified it!" In one quick motion, he then threw Moonsplinter directly at Paultin's head.

Simon broke free from Nat's grasp and ran to help his father, who had luckily managed to swerve out of the magical dagger's path. Moonsplinter then reappeared in Diath's hand just as Simon managed to reach him.

"Out for my blood, are you murderbot? Maybe_ you're_ the one I should have tried to recruit."

Simon swung his axe at him, but he already knew from having watched the rogue in action that he would have no trouble dodging out of the way. Nevertheless, Diath frowned as he seemed to realize the number of opponents now rushing towards him.

"Guess it's time I called for backup," he said, then clapped his hands loudly. Suddenly two clouds of red smoke appeared over a pair of symbols on the floor. And out from them stepped-

"Hello again, did you miss us?" greeted Terenzio Cassalanter in his adult human form. His sister stood beside him with her daggers drawn, in a pose very similar to the one Diath used whenever he braced himself for battle.

Jenks looked perturbed. "W-wait a minute, I banished you to hell! How are you guys back here?"

Squiddly lowered the bow he had been aiming at Diath, and cocked an eyebrow at Elzerina. "Are you guys free from Asmodeus's control?"

The twins exchanged mischievous looks and laughed. Terenzio turned to Diath and remarked, "I assume the ruse is over?"

"Go ahead," nodded Diath, and the twins' forms suddenly shifted back into large devils with chains writhing around their bodies. Diath then turned to the rest of them and explained, "I arranged for Elzerina and Terrenzio to meet up with us outside Candlekeep and make it _look_ like it was an ambush, and that they had turned against me. But we had each embraced lord Asmodeus as our master long before then. Our performance in the woods was just a way to get you to trust me enough to bring me along with you to Baldur's Gate."

"And then you dragged me _here_," growled Paultin. Simon wondered what had happened between his father and Diath in the time they had been alone. The bard looked more serious than Simon had ever remembered seeing him.

"As a favor to your wife," nodded Diath, and multiple pairs of eyes widened. "But it was worth a shot to see if you'd join our side. I guess_ I'll_ have to be the one who accepts the dark destiny that you chose to cast away."

As he said that, Handrew crawled out from Diath's robes and gave Paultin the middle finger.

Simon saw Paultin begin to move towards Diath, but just as the barbarian tried to join them, he felt a chain wrap itself around his ankle and toss him across the room. He struck one of the walls very close to where Waffles had been thrown earlier by Paultin's _thunderwave._ The owlbear had already recovered and now turned her glowing amethyst eyes on Simon.

"Hey girl, it's me. We're friends, remember?"

The owlbear growled, and Simon finally understood what Nat had meant earlier about her "being Waffles, but _not_ Waffles". There was some other intelligence guiding the undead beast, which if Simon understood correctly, was an entity called the Sanguilith. Diath had explained to them in the forest that it was a shard from the Sangulith that he had gotten as a gift from someone named K'thriss, which allowed Diath to control its minions.

*Someone get Shem out of here!* Simon heard faintly in his mind. The voice sounded like his father's, but suddenly he could hear other voices react in surprise. *Yeah yeah, it's me using a warlock spell. Krisperkins is showing me how. Anyways, what matters is that we don't let them get their hands on Shem's soul!*

Simon could hear Shem protest while the others all vehemently agreed. But as Simon looked around the room, he could see that everyone was busy engaging an enemy, even Godfey, who seemed to have followed his instincts and was fighting against one of the chain devils. How were they going to get Shem out of this mess? Then as he looked at Waffles, he had an idea.

*If we had that vial with the piece of crystal that Diath uses to control Waffles, we could have Shem ride her out of here. No one would be fast enough to stop her!* He projected the thought out to the group, and he could hear them pause to consider the idea. To Simon's surprise, it was Squiddly who came up with a plan of action.

Simon saw Squiddly whisper a command to his monkey, who then raced towards Diath just as Paultin began distracting the rogue-wizard by tossing spells in his direction. Lucy leapt onto Diath's shoulder and swatted Handrew aside, then reached a paw into Diath's cloak and squealed in triumph as she pulled out a glass vial capped in gold.

Diath seemed to realize what had happened only after the monkey was already halfway across the room heading back towards Squiddly. He shouted at the chain devils, who looked down at the monkey in confusion and tried to direct their chains towards the fleeing creature. The former urchins took advantage of that distraction to slip under the fiends' guard and attack them in earnest. Shem used his sorcerer magic to summon a _mage hand_ and carry Lucy back to him.

Suddenly Waffles stopped growling at Simon and raised her head towards Shem. Knowing his path was now clear, Simon raced towards his father to help him fight off Diath. But all of the rogue's attention was now fixed on his own son, who was mounted atop the giant owlbear and seemed ready to make his escape.

"_XRA*HL!_" shouted Diath in a foreign tongue, and suddenly the black rune on the floor beneath Waffles began to glow. At the same time, the glyph upon which Diath and Paultin stood came alight.

Simon raced as fast as he could, but was unable to make it in time as pillars of green flame rose up from the floor and engulfed the two groups. The blazes then vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving no trace of those who had stood there a moment ago.

* * *

Strix didn't know what to make of this new Simon... although wasn't he actually the _old Simon?_ She and the version who had lived with her in Barovia for fifty years had developed a grudging respect for one another over time. But with_ this_ Simon, she was still a little uncertain where they stood. Wasn't _he_ the one who liked to murder people? Was it safe for him to be tagging along without Paultin there to keep him in line?

Quite ironically, she had _no_ fear of the hag who had frozen all of the scary people standing outside the Wandering Emporium, and who had afterwards driven Strix and her friends to a secret oasis in the middle of nowhere. Still wearing a pair of dusty riding goggles pressed against her wrinkled face, the crone explained that this was one of the few places still remaining from when Avernus had been used as a land of temptations. There was _actual grass_ growing in a small patch in the middle of the otherwise bleak landscape, with a small brook running through it and perfumed wildflowers growing along its banks. Strix could have almost fooled herself into believing she was back on the material plane.

"I don't like the feel of this spot; too much_ goodness_ for my tastes," grumbled the hag. "But that makes it less likely that Asmodeus will have spies like Mahadi hanging around here. From just your descriptions and your friend foolishly calling out 'Lathander', I'm sure that sneaky rakshasa will soon piece together who you really are."

Strix felt a familiar panic rise up inside her. Once Asdmodeus learned that she was right in his front yard, it was only a matter of time before his forces tracked her down. Even the Shadow Council's magic wouldn't be enough to hide her then.

"You should get into the soul bag, Strix, and escape this place while you can," advised Shard, probably coming to that same realization. "Evelyn and I will rescue Elturel." Though when they both glanced uncertainly over at Evelyn still asleep in her werewolf form, it wasn't clear that their friend would be in any shape or mood to help them when she woke up.

"Is that really what you wanna do, honey? Run away from your problems? I thought you were past all that," drawled Maggie in disappointment. Strix and Shard exchanged surprised looks.

"How do you know so much about us?" Strix asked her suspiciously.

Umpox rolled his eyes at her question and pointed at a round object hanging on a chain around Maggie's neck. "She's got one o' dem _Hag Eyes!_ It lets 'er watch all sorts o' goings on across da planes thanks to da _Witch Network!_"

Maggie nodded at the imp. "That's right. And Strix, honey, you've been a subject of great interest to my sisterhood for quite some time. Baba Yaga, the bonegrinder gals, Baba Lysaga, the Sewn Sisters, _me_... did you think it was only a coincidence that you've run into all the most powerful hags in the multiverse? Oh no, we've been keeping our eyes on _you_." She then cackled, making all of Strix's hairs stand on end.

"Don't forget _me,_" Shard growled, and the enigmatic young woman Strix had watched grow up in the Feywild came over to stand protectively in front of her. "I don't know what you're planning, but I won't let any harm come to Strix."

Maggie's mood instantly changed. "Oh, I have't forgotten about _you,_" she said in a grave tone. "And I wouldn't dream of harming Strix. Both of you have important roles to play in our plans."

"Now hold up thar," said Umpux, fluttering towards the hag. "This one's already signed a pact with _me._ You know da rules. No else can lay a claim on 'er soul!"

The hag nodded. "I'm counting on that! But you haven't even heard my proposition yet." She turned a sly eye towards Strix. "What if I told you that I could break your link with Asmodeus permanently?"

The trash witch was taken aback. "You can do that?" she asked in awe, but then remembered that she had heard similar promises before. "I once thought that changing my name would be enough, but he obviously still has a hold on me. Then a tiefling banker told me that the Beestingers were just as awful as the Skizziks, so maybe that has something to do with it."

Maggie snorted. "Rosie Beestinger's got her own history with the _Lord of Lies,_ but it only ties herself, not her family. Though if you become the head of that family some day, you'll have your own deals to work out with him, no doubt. Right now though, honey, the only thing tying you to him is your perception of who you actually are."

Strix and Shard exchanged confused glances. "Are you saying that her bond to Asmodeus is all in her mind?" Shard asked her doubtfully.

"Here in hell, _implications_ and _connotations_ can bind you just as tightly as promises signed in blood. If a contract's wording is loose enough, you can claim the original meaning applied to just about anything! It's one way that my kind and the devils rope gullible folks into doing all sorts of terrible things they would never have actually agreed to otherwise!" Maggie giggled delightedly.

"Hey, don't go spillin' all our secrets to _outsiders!_" griped Umpox.

Maggie smiled at Strix and Shard. "Oh, but they won't be outsiders for long. Not if they agree to join us."

Shard folded her arms out in front of her. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

The old crone pointed a gnarled finger at Shard. "You may look like a hag, dearie, but you've got a lot to learn about being one. I can teach you. Just like I can teach _her._" Maggie moved her finger to point at Strix, but faster than anyone could react, the hag thrust her long jagged nail into Strix's chest. Strix felt a stab of icy cold before she stumbled backwards in a panic. Yet as Strix moved away from the hag, she felt a tugging sensation from her chest, and realized that Maggie had gotten something hooked into her claw.

A large grub-like creature, about the size of a loaf of bread, wriggled within Maggie's grip. But where the worm body ended, Strix was horrified to see an all too human-like face staring back at her. Maggie licked her lips and raised it to her mouth, but then looked back at Shard and Strix and told them, "Watch carefully now". She folded her long claws over the creature's head and twisted as if screwing closed a lid. A green glow then pulsed from between her fingers, and when she opened her claws, there was a metal coin resting in her palm.

"See? Easy," she grinned. But Strix was far more preoccupied with checking herself for any large gaping wounds in her chest, expecting to see blood start staining her robes at any second. However after a quick exam, she found that there was no visible sign of injury. Had that _thing_ really come from inside her? She then remembered the contract with the Sewn Sisters, and that they had promised to implant Strix and her friends with soul worms to protect them from the death curse.

"I will accept this coin as payment for showing you how," grinned the hag. "Soul worms are valuable here, and can be traded in or used for all sorts of things."

Strix was used to seeing hags perform many odd rituals, having been tutored in magic by Baba Yaga and taught about bloodbaths by Baba Lysaga. But there had always been a limit to how much Strix could copy them, not being a hag herself. Just as she dwelled on that memory, Maggie's beady eyes zeroed in on Strix.

"And what if you _could_ become one of us?" Strix heard the hag ask, as if reading her thoughts. "Would you be willing to change who you are, if it meant being free from Asmodeus forever?"

"What...what are you saying?"she asked in confusion. She saw that Shard looked equally surprised.

"I'm saying that your link to Asmodeus is tied to your identity. You're not a Skizziks any more; you can reject that blood bond any time you want, and become an ordinary human. Of course you'd then lose all of the magic powers your tiefling blood gives you. And that's the problem, isn't it? _I know magic_, isn't that what you're always saying?"

Strix slowly digested Maggie's words. "You mean I'm putting everyone at risk because I can't let go of my magic?"

Shard looked back and forth between Strix and the hag. "Wait...does this mean that if Strix rejects being a tiefling, Asmodeus can't get to her? Or get to Shem! Does that break _his_ bond too?"

Maggie shrugged. "We're talking _deep magic_ here, so I figure each person has to make that choice for themselves. But don't you fret honey, cuz I can sweeten the deal." Maggie pulled out a scroll from her bag and explained, "This is a _true polymorph_ spell. With it, I can turn you into a hag, and you'll be able to do magic again, without any ties to that nasty ol' Asmodeus. You already call yourself a 'trash witch', so think how much better it will be when you have the powers of a_ real_ hag. No one will dare oppose you then!"

Shard eyed Strix worriedly. "I don't know about this. Maybe we should just start with you being human, and decide on the polymorph later. After all Strix, there's more to you than just your magic."

Simon surprised them all by choosing that moment to chime in. "Not that anyone asked for_ my_ opinion, but I think you'd be crazy to go through with it. I've been a puppet all my life, and I'd never let someone polymorph me into anything else!"

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Be that as it may, you can't let Asmodeus get his hands on you, and the clock is ticking. Not just that, but you werewolf friend there is in the clutches of an evil power. I know a ceremony spell that just might help her, but I'd need to be at full strength. And that means I'd need to find two other hags to join me in a coven. What's left of my last two sisters ain't gonna cut it." Maggie pulled out two skulls from her bag and scowled at them disapprovingly.

Strix's thoughts raced. She could be in a coven, _a real coven!_ It would mean being turned into a hag, but would that be so bad? Sure, some hags were evil, but she remembered that Baba Yaga had always treated her well. If what Maggie said was true, hags had always been looking out for her. Maybe this truly was Strix's destiny? And if it meant ridding herself of all links to Asmodeus, and still keeping her magic, then wouldn't it be worth it? She briefly thought about how her friends might react, and wondered if they would reject her. Yet as she looked down at Evelyn, she remembered that her friends were still very much in danger. And what about her son!? She couldn't let Asmodeus have Shem, or the whole universe as she knew it would be gone.

Her mind suddenly made up, Strix took a deep breath. "I accept your offer," she told Maggie, then squeezed her eyes shut against whatever happened next.

* * *

Umpox watched as the _true polymorph_ spell took hold, changing the tiefling into an green-skinned, wrinkly old woman. He was surprised that Maggie had chosen to turn her into a _green hag_ instead of a _night hag_ like herself. Then again, remembering how the clone had enjoyed letting moss cover past of her face, he realized it might be more appropriate to let her be a fey-like crone of the wilderness, rather than a fiend of hell.

The imp felt a sort of fatherly pride at how far she had come. The Sewn Sisters had let Umpox raise all of the clones they created, teaching them the value of selfishness and power. A devil's purpose in life was to corrupt, after all, and he had been happy to turn their latest batch of clones into the worst people imaginable. Sadly, since clones didn't have actual souls, he wasn't able to mark down any of these accomplishments on his infernal resume. It still galled him how long he had been stuck as an imp, while others who had started out as lemures with him got quickly promoted to barbed and chain devils, and one had even become a pit fiend!

Umpox released a bitter sigh and shook his head to clear away those angry thoughts. Now that he was no longer stuck as a servant to the Sewn Sisters, he finally had a shot at making a name for himself. At first he had planned to collect souls in Elturel and trade them in for favors with higher ranking devils, but that was before he had come across his big break. Who would have expected to find such a virtuous and powerful soul hiding inside the shrouded figure of his new mistress? He might not have believed she even _was_ a hag, but suddenly Maggie cackled in glee and cried out, "Finally, I have a coven again!"

The imp could indeed detect a thin ethereal thread tying together the three women. He saw the newly-made hag frown as she looked down at herself and remark, "I feel ...different." Then as she realized how her voice had also changed, the clone moaned and covered her face with her hands

Umpox was not surprised to see his mistress rush over to comfort her. Linking her claws with the clone's, she said soothingly, "Don't worry Strix, we can hide all that. Hags can change their appearance, remember? Just close your eyes and think about how you used to look and sound. _Focus_... yes, that's it! I bet Evelyn won't even notice when she wakes up."

The clone did indeed look like her old self again. Umpox snorted in disapproval.

"Since you followed through with your end of the deal, I guess it's time I do my part," grinned Mad Maggie. She pulled out a pouch of black powder from her sack, then instructed the puppet to begin pouring it in a circle around the werewolf. "Careful now, that stuff's hard to come by! Now you two girls each take a skull from one of my_ former_ sisters and place it next to you on that circle. And _you_-" she said, now looking straight at Umpox. "Go wake up _Sleeping Beauty_."

Umpox wanted to argue that he didn't take orders from _her,_ but was surprised to find himself compelled to do so. _Wait a minute,_ did the fact that his contract applied to _one_ hag in a Coven actually mean that he was now bound to all three? He racked his brain trying to remember if there had ever been a precedent for this sort of thing. When the Sewn Sisters had summoned him, they had done it all together. What worried Umpox even more was what this might mean about his claim to his mistress's soul.

"Hey, you finally awake?" he called out to the werewolf irritably. He noticed one of her ears twitch, which was all the warning he had to quickly dodge aside as she swiped a claw right where he had been hovering a second before. Mad Maggie cackled in amusement, making Umpox grit his teeth. He flew back to the entrance of their camp and ignored whatever ritual the four of them had going on. Hag business didn't interest him if it didn't involve corrupting or collecting souls.

Now finding himself close to where Maggie had parked her vehicle, he realized on closer inspection that it was one of the earliest models of infernal warmachines, known as a 'hellrider'. It was named after the company of paladins from Elturel who had followed the archangel Zariel on a suicide mission into Avernus to stop the flood of demons spilling out of the Abyss. That had been long ago, when most of Avernus still resembled places like this oasis. Noble warriors of that caliber probably didn't even exist any more, realized Umpox a little sadly, though that emotion surprised him.

He heard footsteps and turned around to see Mad Maggie as well as a figure in black armor approach him. The hag handed the stranger a soul coin and said, "Remember, you bring me the Sword of Zariel for my collection, and I make sure the boy remains out of Mahadi's clutches." The black figure nodded silently.

The hag then fixed her beady eyes on Umpox. "I saw you admiring my machine. Well guess what - it's your lucky day, imp! You guys are about to go on one helluva ride."

Rather than excitement, Umpox was filled with dread as the hag let out loud screeches of hideous laughter.


	11. Enemy of my Enemy

I never thought I would be able to stretch this story to last until the next Acq Inc game so I could see how they explain Evelyn's time warp escape from Avernus, and whether it's something I could incorporate here, but I'm thinking this story will instead end right before they meet Jim's clone a few games ago.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

**SOME TIME IN SIGIL'S PAST**

After exiting Shemeshka's mansion with the two Cassalanter children in tow, Diath was surprised to find that there was no one outside waiting to ambush him. As he slowly walked past the gates of multiple other estates, he realized that he must be in one of the wealthier districts of Sigil, which likely had it own security to keep the riffraff out. Realizing that he would now fall into that category, the rogue hurriedly directed his wards down several streets until they entered a larger part of the city.

Now he could spot figures walking alongside shops and eateries, and he ducked his head and tried to avoid drawing any attention. No one seemed to recognize him or care who he might be, but some did show passing interest in the two children he was dragging by the hands. The Cassalanters had stopped repeating their foreboding verse about the coming of Asmodeus, and instead watched Diath with wide, emotionless eyes. Their silent stares unnerved him even more than the chanting had.

He looked back and forth at the storefronts and market stalls, trying to see if anything looked familiar. He had only the vaguest memories of Sigil from his early childhood, and other than the hooded stranger who had handed him the magical set of keys, he likely didn't have anyone here who he might consider an ally. He knew next to nothing about his family, or if any of them were even still alive. His own mother had died when he was around ten, just before someone had taken him out of Sigil and deposited him in Waterdeep. If only he could remember which portal they had used!

A tall robed figure was floating down the opposite side of the street, and the area quickly emptied of people. Diath wondered if he should disappear as well, but the creature seemed to take notice of him, and began heading his way. As it approached, Diath could see it had a pair of goat horns sprouting through bushy white hair. It triggered a memory he had from Strix's stories about her childhood, and he realized that this must be one of the dabus, the caretakers of Sigil. Unfortunately, they were also representatives of the Lady of Pain, a being who Strix had given him multiple warnings never to cross. Given his family's feud with the Skizziks and their treaty - which he still did not fully understand - could Diath's presence on this plane_ itself_ be breaking some kind of law?

"We'd be happy to leave, sir, if you could just tell us how to get to the nearest portal," he offered hurriedly. The creature then looked down at the two children he was holding, and Diath tightened his grip. "They're coming with me. It's too dangerous to leave them here." He did not bother explaining who it was dangerous _for_.

A magical cloud of some kind formed over the being's head, and letters and symbols appeared inside it. Diath worried that this might be a spell being cast on him, and his eyes darted to the sides of the street, looking for possible alleys to escape through. A hand then shot out and gripped his shoulder, and Diath saw new symbols forming in the cloud. He averted his gaze and considered letting go of one of the kids to grasp Moonsplinter and _misty step_ out of reach. But then the creature let out what was obviously a sigh of frustration, and turned Diath's body so that he faced the bright orange door of a nearby shop. It then pointed a hand directly at the door, which seemed to open on its own, and gave Diath a small push forward.

"Thank you," the rogue muttered gratefully, and with only a moment of hesitation, jumped through and pulled the two Cassalanter children in with him.

They found themselves on a flat rocky plain. It was nighttime, wherever this was, but a faint luminescence lit the ground. A small distance ahead, he spotted the lights of what might be a small town. Glancing behind, he saw a vastly tall mountain that ended in what appeared to be a spire with a ring-shaped mass hovering at its top. _Sigil_, he realized to himself, remembering how Strix had described the shape of the city. That meant that they must now be at the edges of the central plane, an area she had called the Outlands. Supposedly there were gateways here, larger than the portals in Sigil, that led directly to one of the Outer Planes where souls ended up in the afterlife. Diath had no intention of ending his life prematurely, but he supposed he had at least dragged the Cassalanter kids far enough away that they and Asmodeus could not interfere in the birth of his child.

He then realized that he no longer held the children's hands, and desperately looked around for them. He then spotted their forms silhouetted against the lights from the nearby town, and rushed to catch up to them.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked Elzerina sternly.

"To the town, obviously. We can't very well spend the whole night out here."

Hearing her speak normal words again was both reassuring and suspicious. He debated whether or not to grab hold of their hands again, but she was right - where else was there to go?

He followed a step behind as they walked steadily towards the town. The buildings were made up of a hodgepodge of materials, from rugged stone and brick to over a dozen colors and sheens of metal. Quite notably, there was not a single piece of wood to be seen. Judging from the scorch marks on some of the walls, he assumed there must have been a large fire that had once threatened the settlement. The people wandering through the town themselves appeared to have a hardened look to them, and no one smiled or offered a greeting as the three of them approached.

The bells of an old clocktower at the center of town began to sound. The Cassalanter children looked up at Diath.

"It is happening," said Terenzio simply.

Diath staggered as he felt a sudden pang deep inside him. He realized that the Lorcatha soul must be trying to separate from him and go to his child, who was about to be born. He experienced a moment of fear and regret, dwelling on his failures and missed opportunities, and wondering if his life had ever amounted to anything. But then his focus turned to Strix and their child, and how he was abandoning them to the mercies of Shemeshka and Asmodeus, and whatever evil plans they had in store.

"I'm sorry," he tried to say, but in that instant the soul left him. He was now an empty shell, bereft of emotion or a will of his own. He could only stand there with his arms drooping at his sides, staring outward with an empty gaze.

"You can come out now, the soul is gone," said the boy, poking the shell with his finger.

When nothing happened, the girl began to tap her foot impatiently and said, "You can't fool us; lord Asmodeus told us the hags put a soul worm into this body. We can help you blend in, and fool other people into thinking you're the real Diath."

What little remained of Diath Woodrow's sense of self began to feel a strange presence inside his body. It had once been just a small nuisance, like a parasite, that he had been vaguely aware had invaded him, but that he had largely ignored. But now without his own soul to suppress it, Diath realized that it was spreading out of control, and he was helpless to stop it. He felt it take over his mouth and say, "Very well, I accept your help. What would Asmodeus have me do?"

The children once again took hold of his hands, but now_ they_ were the ones in charge. "First things first, we say goodbye to this miserable place - whatever its name is," muttered Elzerina.

"Ash Town," grimaced Terenzio, as he began leading them to the large white portal that marked the entrance to the Nine Hells.

* * *

Shem looked around in surprise at the reddish, smoke-filled sky. He had clearly been teleported out of the Umbra hideout and brought to... _wherever_ this was. It seemed to be the half-burned down ruins of a city, parts of which were still smoldering. The loud toll of a churchbell echoed through the streets, and the tiefling looked up to see a tall crumbling clocktower near the center of town. Waffles, who he was still mounted on, seemed perturbed by the smoke and the threat of fire. Shem had never liked fire himself, despite the resistance his fiendish blood gave him, and patted the owlbear reassuringly.

"Don't worry girl, I'll get us out of this place."

"Unlikely," he heard a familiar voice say from behind him. Shem urged the owlbear to turn around and saw that Diath and Paultin were standing only a few yards away. The bard looked as disoriented as Shem felt, but Diath was smirking triumphantly. "Now that you're in hell, there's no hope for escape," his father explained.

Paultin scowled at him. "Are you really going to sell your son to Asmodeus?"

The rogue shook his head and frowned at Shem. "He's no son of mine."

Dark shadows began filling the alleys surrounding their group. Voices echoed around Shem - excited whispers, cackling laughter, and guttural chanting in a dark speech he didn't understand.

*It's now or never* Shem heard Gutter whisper in his mind. *Use the key*

He reached into his tunic and lifted out the key hanging from a chain around his neck. He saw a gleam of excitement in Diath's eyes as his father realized what he was about to do. But Shem had nothing to lose at this point, so he thrust the key into the hole in his sword and twisted it.

Silence. Shem blinked in confusion and looked around as everyone and every _thing_ seemed frozen in time. Even Waffles was a statue underneath him.

*Don't worry, _she_ is coming* said Gutter, and as Shem watched, a portal of white light opened up in front of him. Out stepped a creature he had been warned about all of his life, but had no memory of ever meeting ...the being who carried his name.

"Shemeshka," greeted Shem warily. "I've been told you help members of my family in need."

The arcanaloth surveyed the surrounding area and tsked to herself. "Ash Town. I haven't been here in eons." Her piercing gaze then fell on Diath and she commented, "Things would have gone better for you if you'd behaved yourself."

Shem looked at the fox-headed fiend worriedly, wondering if she had mistakenly thought it was Diath who had summoned her. "Excuse me, but _I'm_ the one who put the key in Gutter. My name is-"

Shemeshka flicked her cigarette holder in his direction and called out, "Yes, yes, I know who you are. And since you are familiar with the bargain between myself and the Woodrows, I would hope that you have taken greater care in preparing your questions than the last person who held that sword. I so hate to have my valuable time wasted."

Here at last was someone with answers to the many mysteries that had plagued Shem all of his life. His mother had only offered snippets of information about his origins, or those of the Lorcatha and Skizziks families. What was Asmodeus really after, and what was Shemeshka the Marauder's own role in all of this? Shem wondered which of these many puzzles he should ask about first, and how he could phrase it in just the right way so that the arcanaloth revealed the information he needed to know.

Then it came to him. It required wasting one of his questions, but-

"What are the next two questions that I should ask whose answers would help me the most in this situation?"

Shemeshka's teeth gleamed as she grinned. "Finally," she nodded in satisfaction.

Their surroundings began to shift. Shem thought at first that they were being slowly teleported to a new location, but as he watched, he realized that the town around them was reconstructing itself - or more accurately, the damage the place had suffered was gradually being reversed. He then understood that they were rapidly traveling backwards in time. He could not say how long he and the arcanaloth stood there watching the walls revert into new buildings, or the plant and animal life slowly return to the town. When the flow of time finally stopped and then jerked back into normal motion, he realized that Diath, Paultin and Waffles were missing. As for the townsfolk now strolling through the streets, no one seemed to pay any attention to the tiefling and arcanaloth standing in their midst.

"Come along, the trial is about to begin," announced Shemeshka, and she hitched up the ends of her gown to keep it from dragging into the dirt and rapidly headed in the direction of the now restored clock tower. Shem had no choice but to follow, and he hurriedly came up alongside her.

"Forgive me for saying so, but this doesn't look like what I asked you for," he pointed out, being very careful not to phrase his comment in the form of a question.

"Let's just say I skipped over the boring questions and jumped straight to giving you the answers," she drawled cheerfully. Shem wondered what had put her in such a good mood, but thought it might be safer not to point it out. He followed her inside the building, which seemed far larger than its outward appearance should have made possible. It was shaped as an auditorium, with rows upon rows of curved benches to sit on. Shem assumed that he was about to be interrogated and headed towards the front, but Shemeshka pulled on his arm and led him to the shadowed topmost row.

"Just watch," she instructed, adjusting her dress as she sat down beside him.

Shem leaned back in his seat and tried to pay attention as the room began to fill. He was surprised to note the number of fiendish and angelic-looking creatures who were in attendance. There was also a large congregation of humans and tieflings who took up opposite ends of the room, glaring across the open space at each other. Suddenly the chamber fell silent as a figure in golden armor took slow mechanical steps onto the front stage where a podium stood. As it took its position, three other beings magically apparated at the center and either side of the floor. Shem gasped as he recognized the one in the center as Shemeshka, and quickly glanced next to him to confirm that her double was still there. As for the others, Shem could not even look upon the one who stood with the humans and angels, as its body radiated blinding pearlescent light. The creature standing near the devils was someone Shem had no trouble recognizing, although he he had only heard of him in stories. Asmodeus smiled confidently as his minions cheered, and straightened the bow on his finely tailored back suit.

"We are met this day to discuss the growing conflict between good and evil that threatens the state of the multiverse," intoned the one in golden armor, who Shem assumed must be acting as a kind of judge. "While this conflict was initially considered balanced between denizens of the Upper and Lower Planes, due to recent interference by the gods, mortals have become involved in greater numbers, resulting in an unprecedented number of released souls that are putting great strain on the Realms."

Asmodeus raised his hand. "If I may, your honor, I would like to point out that the Hells have plenty of space for any surplus that the other Planes might find too cumbersome to deal with. We would be happy to take such a burden off their shoulders. Most of my employees are also well trained in the handling of souls." The smile Asmodeus wore seemed sincere, but Shem saw smirks on the faces of the devils behind him.

The mechanical judge turned his glowing eyes on the devil. "Asmodeus, lord of the plane of Lawful Evil. You stand accused of physically augmenting your human followers known as the Skizziks, supplying them with fiendish troops, and inciting them to commit violent acts."

Asmodeus straightened indignantly in his seat. "As you pointed out, myself and my followers have merely followed our lawful evil nature, as is our right! To call that act a crime is to deny our right to exist; our very place in the multiverse!" The fiends in the audience began to grumble audibly.

"The multiverse has no place for your kind!" shouted his holy opponent in outrage. Shem had to squint to block out most of his aura, and was able to discern a stern-faced humanoid figure in white robes. The judge now turned his head to address him.

"Amanuator, lord of the plane of Lawful Good. You stand accused of secretly aiding your human followers known as the Lorcatha, supplying them with celestial weapons and angelic troops in order to decimate the Skizziks." Shem noted the devils quietly boo and hiss, while those on the opposite site of the chamber remained stoically quiet.

The god of light looked back entreatingly at the judge. "If it is Asmodeus's right to attack us, then by all that is holy, it is _our right_ to fight back! We will not allow them to taint the Material Planes with their savagery! We will wipe the worlds clean of their evil!"

The mechanical creature nodded to each of the speakers, and then to the Shemshka down at the center of the stage. "Shemeshka the Maurader, you have agreed to stand as a mediator in this conflict. You will now present their arguments in a non-partisan fashion, that we might arrive at the truth and reach a fair concordance."

The arcanaloth stood up daintily with a light twirl of her long green dress. "Thank you, your honor. I would like to point out that while my kind do fall within the category of 'evil creatures', we are foremost interested in knowledge and truth. I have found this conflict between the humans and their patrons to be extremely fascinating, and have been documenting each sides' activities. Therefore, I also consider myself an expert witness in this affair, as well as a neutral representative."

Shem was still surprised that Amanuator had agreed to let a fiend run the proceedings. Yet as the tiefling looked closely at Asmodeus, he could detect faint signs of unease beneath the devil's plastered smile. Maybe Shemeshka really _wasn't_ in his pocket?

"I will begin by repeating lord Asmodeus's claim that by enhancing his human devotees and encouraging them to do evil, he was in fact following the rules expected of his alignment. He should not be judged by any other standard of behavior, even if his actions resulted in the murder of countless humans - which is itself defined as an evil act and therefore excusable for him and his followers."

Shemeshka had been facing Asmodeus as she spoke, who nodded warily as he listened to her words. She then suddenly spun to face Amanuator, whose eyes widened in surprise as her tone became angry and accusatory. "But _you,_ a god of love and peace, acted _outside_ of your domain to declare war on these individuals. It is not your place to decide who has the right to exist! Your celestial soldiers were trained to smite fiends, not poor mortals who were tricked into evil acts by a god known as the 'Lord of Lies'. Humans cannot be expected to have the wisdom of higher beings and recognize when they are straying down the wrong path. The job of a celestial being is to nurture and guide mortals when they are being led astray; not to punish them with frightful weapons of destruction." The arcanoloth pulled out a sword that very much resembled Gutter, but without the fox head on the pommel. She presented it to the mechanical judge, who examined it carefully before returning it to her.

"I protest!" shouted Amanuator. "The mediator is supposed to be unbiased, but this _fiend_ uses words that vilify the side of good while downplaying Asmodeus's involvement. Why, I would not be surprised if this entire trial were just part of some scheme of his to take over the Upper Planes!"

Asmodeus shook his head sadly. "Amanuator, you give me too much credit. Why would I risk the balance of the multiverse with such a ruse? You forget that as caretaker of one of the cardinal planes, it is in my best interest to keep the status quo, lest it risk destroying all I hold dear. I will graciously accept _some_ responsibility for my human followers perhaps getting a little overzealous in their worship of evil. And as this arcanoloth so perfectly expressed, humans require _guidance_ from time to time. But I would never have gone so far as you did, to_ arm_ these poor children with weapons far beyond their understanding. Honestly, I find the whole idea rather shocking."

Amanuator began to sputter in indignation, but before he could protest further, the armored figure put up a mechanical hand. "We have heard directly from both sides, and the mediator has summarized their arguments. It is my judgment as a kolyarut and representative of Mechanus, the lord of Neutral Law, that the humans known as Lorcatha are guilty of promoting chaos and murder, which is outside the domain of their patron Amanuator, the lord of Lawful Good. As punishment, they are to be put to death, and their souls banished to the hells."

This time the audience sitting behind Amanutaor reacted. Some cried out angrily at the judge and Shemeshka, while others wept or moaned in despair. Shem himself glared down at the judge in disgust, then snapped his head back up to confront the Shemeshka sitting beside him. "How could you-" he began, but she pointed a finger down at the stage. He saw the other Shemeshka raise a hand in supplication and turn to address the judge.

"If I may be so bold, your honor, I believe that in the name of fairness and neutrality, Lord Asmodeus should also be made to give up something. After all, did he not just admit that he deserved to accept at least _some responsibility?_"

The kolyarut nodded to her. "Very well. What do you propose?"

Shemeshka's eyes roved over the crowd. "Handing over_ all_ of the Lorcatha souls to Asmodeus seems a bit of a waste. Indeed, haven't we established that what the humans really need is _guidance?_ What if we allowed one Lorcatha to go free, and see if they can learn the error of their ways? Perhaps even allow them to redeem the others?"

"What an absurd idea!" scoffed the Lord of Lies. "It would practically equate to no punishment at all! The multiverse deserves_ justice_ for their crimes!"

The god of light stood up. "If you allow this leniency, then I too, will accept a form of punishment." He turned to look back at his followers seated behind him. "I have led you astray. I am a deity of Lawful Good, and to believe in me in to believe in righteousness and duty above all other things. But rules can be restrictive, and come at the cost of compassion and mercy. You all know what happened to our mighty ally Zariel, and how she was forced to turn to Asmodeus for support when I was unable to tolerate her disobedience. We must be ever vigilant against the slow corruptions and encroachment of evil, but times are changing, and we must change with them. We can no longer allow the shackles of law to bind our hands. The Sun will forever be there to guide you, my friends, but it will now carry a new face."

The cries and worried mutterings from his side of the chamber returned, while the opposite side looked at each other in confusion. Only Asmodeus seemed to understand what was happening, but he merely fingered his long goatee thoughtfully.

"Very well," said the judge. "This court accepts the following terms - all the Lorcatha but one shall be terminated, and their souls banished to the Nine Hells until such time as the remaining soul convinces us that they can be redeemed. Amanuator is also banished to the Astral Plane, his position to be replaced with a Neutral Good deity who can take over the role of Sun God. The human family known as the Skizziks are prohibited from having further interactions with the remaining Lorcatha."

"Agreed," said Asmodeus and Amanuator in unison. A golden disk with strange inscriptions appeared in the mechanical judge's hands, and at that moment a wave of energy pulsed outward from the center of the stage. Shem could feel a tingle deep in his chest as it passed over him.

Another construct, far larger than the one presiding over the ceremony, then stomped over to the podium. The judge pressed the golden disk onto its chest as it explained, "This Marut now carries the terms of our concordance, and though the power of Law, balance is restored to the multiverse. Any who defy these terms, be they god or mortal, will be punished."

"A moment, please," said Shemeshka, and she raised her hand. "As mediator of these proceedings, I believe I am entitled to some form of payment-"

Before Shem could hear more, the image of the room began to waver. He turned to the Shemeshka next to him and asked, "Wait, what happens next?"

The arcanoloth grinned. "I believe what you witnessed was already worth at least _two_ questions, and _you_ are now out of keys. I am sending you back to the time and place I found you, although I won't be accompanying you; it would be far too dangerous for me, you understand. But I will be documenting this momentous occasion from a safe distance."

The return trip seemed to go much faster, and before Shem knew it, he was back in the present, still perched atop Waffles. Diath's head was looking from side to side, no doubt wondering when Shemeshka was going to appear so that he could use her true name and control her.

"You missed your chance," Shem told his father grimly. "She's come and gone."

The rogue-wizard shrugged. "It would have been overkill anyway."

A new voice then said, "I would prefer not to take any chances. Lucy, bring that shiny object over to me, will you?"

Shem was surprised to feel a tug at his belt, and as he looked down he spotted Squiddly's monkey drawing out Gutter from its sheath.

"What the-" he began to protest, then scrambled to grab at the fleeing creature as it squealed and leapt off Waffles with Shem's sword in tow. He was about to direct the owlbear to chase after it, when he spotted the now familiar figure of Asmodeus kneeling down to accept Lucy's offering.

"Are you kidding me!" he heard Paultin protest angrily. "Even the monkey's turned against us?"

The devil lord smiled wanly over at Paultin. "Did you never stop to wonder who it was who had given those children their gifts in the first place?" Gripping the weapon in his right hand, Asmodeus then aimed Gutter's tip against his left palm, and to Shem's surprise, thrust the sword straight into it. The blade shattered into a thousand pieces. He then tossed the pommel over his shoulder and addressed Shem directly.

"There will be no more of that meddlesome creature's interference. Body and soul - _you boy_ \- now belong to _me_."

* * *

Evelyn gripped the handlebars of Mad Maggie's vehicle as it tore across the wastelands of Avernus, leaving deep tread marks in the broken bone fragments and torn off fingernails that now covered the ground. There were other mortal remains that the devils had chosen to scatter across their landscape, but she preferred not to examine them too closely. It was difficult enough to ignore the wails and occasional sobs that came from the machine's engine as it burned up the living soul coin it used as fuel.

Umpox the imp had found his own seat right behind Evelyn, and used her body to shield his face from the wind and dust. She was fortunate that Maggie had found her a suit of armor with a tight-fitting helmet that could protect her from the elements, as well keep her identity hidden from prying eyes. Although it had once been the color of steel, after donning it, the wisps of darkness flowing over her had immediately merged with the metal, darkening its sheen. Umpox complained that it made Evelyn look like that 'other paladin', and she realized he meant her evil construct clone. Evelyn preferred not to dwell on that, and was instead reminded of the black armor of invulnerability she had taken from the dwarf bodyguard at the Yakfolk village, who her group only later realized was actually a dao in disguise. Sadly, the platemail she now wore was not magical, but she hoped her own werewolf immunities would keep her alive in the battles ahead.

"So where was it dat hag wants us to go to?" cried Umpox over the roar of the engine.

"Some place called the Scab!" she shouted back. "Maggie said we just had to keep going in this direction and that we'd know it when we found it!"

She felt Umpox climb up to her shoulder before he called out near her ear, "Folk don't simply *walk* into da Scab," he huffed. "It's one of da most dangerous places in all Avernus!"

With her thoughts focused on Simon, Evelyn could only answer, "Well then, it's a good thing we're riding and not walking, wouldn't you say?"

He grumbled and climbed back down, but Evelyn felt her confidence shaken. Once she would have let her mind and heart drift towards the heavens to draw strength from her bond with Lathander, but that avenue was now closed to her. Despite Shar having apparently taken an interest in her, and Arkhan urging Evelyn to accept the Night Mother's gifts, she could not see herself ever taking the same dark path as her twin. _Don't fear the darkness_ had been the message Donaar's god had passed on to Evelyn, but that could be interpreted any number of ways.

A barrier of some sort suddenly loomed up on a hillside ahead of them, and Evelyn was forced to slow down. She could see figures stroll along its length as if on patrol, and heard a shout of warning as her hellrider came into view. As Evelyn debated whether to stop the vehicle or try to break through the wall, the ground beneath her tires seemed to melt and immediately resolidify, holding her fast.

"Now we're in fer it," groaned the imp. "One o' da Dark Eight must be in charge here. No way are we gettin' through."

"The Dark Eight?" Evelyn repeated. The name faintly rang a bell, perhaps from her paladin training, but she had regrettably found many of her more scholarly lessons rather boring, and had likely been doodling pictures of horses rather than paying much attention at the time.

"Asmodeus's top generals! Pit fiends in charge o' da Blood War! Even archdevils like Zariel have no authority o'er _dem_." At that moment, a very large devil began slowly heading in their direction. It reminded Evelyn of the pit fiend they had fought in Nightstone, but it had somewhat different coloring and a different shape to his horns. As the monster approached, Umpox whispered, "Dat der's Zapan! Ah gots me an idea how we might git outta dis mess in one piece. Just promise me you won't say nothin', and fer sure I don't wants ta hear no preachin' to Lathander, gots it?"

Evelyn nodded unhappily at the request, but didn't see herself as having many other options. The devil stopped a few feet away from them and called out, "This is a restricted area! Only the Iron Defenders of Dis are allowed here!"

Umpox fluttered up from behind Evelyn and bowed down to the creature. "Mighty Zapan, Minister of Immortal Diplomacy, I represent dis here servant o' Shar. The dark goddess commands 'er to go down into da Scab for some unholy purpose."

Evelyn had to forcefully clamp her mouth shut to keep from contradicting him. She had been taught that paladins should never lie. In this case, she wasn't the one doing the talking, so she hoped that meant that it _technically_ wasn't her fault.

The devil general squinted down at her. "You're in league with the Mistress of the Night, are you? Do you have any proof?"

Evelyn tried to summon the dark energy to swirl around her as it usually did, but it now seemed bound to her new armor. She tried to think of an excuse, but remembered that Umpox had told her to keep quiet. The imp was very nervously sputtering some kind of reply, when in the distance, Evelyn's sharp hearing picked up the sound of howling.

Zapan seemed to have heard it too, for he stopped paying attention to Umpox and began scanning the horizon. Several dozen shapes came into view, loping doggedly towards them. Evelyn at once recognized the pack she had inherited, and was stunned to see them surround her protectively, forming an even more effective barrier between her and the devil general than the black smoke would have been.

As the werewolves growled at Zapan, Evelyn could not help but allow a growl of her own to slip past her curled lips. The devil finally raised his hands as a gesture of peace.

"Far be it for me to sully the profitable relationship between our masters. Very well, you have permission to cross the barrier. Be warned that demons have recently taken over the Scab. We've given up trying to disperse them; the best we can do is hold this position and keep them from encroaching any further."

Umpox looked up at the pit fiend slyly. "Maybe now with these here reinforcements, we gots a shot at it? After all, we can't let these rotten demons think deys can kick us out o' our own lands. We gots ta do our part in da _Blood War!_"

As he spoke those last words, the wolves began to howl again. This in turn stirred the devils manning the barricade into some kind of frenzy. Evelyn heard them chanting,_ "Blood war! Blood war! Blood war_!"

"Now now, let's not get worked up-" cautioned Zapan.

Umpox did not appear to have heard him, instead fluttering over to where the other devils stood and pumping his little fists in the air as he continued to call out, "Blood war!"

Things reached a breaking point just as Umpox cried, "Charge!", and both the devils and werewolves tore through the barrier and raced down the other side. Evelyn realized her tires had been freed, and activated her hellrider to chase after them. She spared one last look at the pit fiend, who simply stood there in dumbfounded amazement. As she crested the hill and passed through one of the breaks in the wall, Umpox dove down and landed on her shoulder.

"Dat should provide us a nice lil' distraction," he remarked with a satisfied grin.

Evelyn could not argue with that. There was indeed what looked to be an unruly clump of demons staring up in surprise at the combined devil and werewolf forces descending upon them. Evelyn was reminded of another of her paladin lessons - that unlike the well armed and disciplined devils, demons did not follow any kind of organized structure when they fought, simply overwhelming their foe with their larger numbers. In this case, that strategy did not seem to be working, as the werewolves were smart enough to draw the demons away into smaller groups, where they would subsequently be slaughtered by the devils and their more advanced weapons and magic.

But Evelyn did not have time to watch how the battle would unfold. She directed the vehicle towards the only notable landmark in view - a large hill whose base seemed to be a solid crust of blood-red rock, but whose top gleamed despite the lack of sunlight. As they got closer, she could discern half-buried towers from beneath the glittering dome.

"What happened here?" she wondered, not realizing she had spoken aloud until Umpox answered.

"No one knows what's inside it, or how da place got here. Its sealed behind some kinda field o' blessed energy, so alls we can do is try to cover it up. But look at dat tunnel o'er yonder. Wonder if da demons managed to dig their way underneath; must be sometin' mighty important down dar."

A gaping hole marred the lower surface of the crust, leading into darkness. Evelyn debated whether she should just fly to the top and see if the dome actually blocked her entry. But a part of her was afraid to learn what would happen if the purity of her soul was tested. What if she really had been corrupted, and was found unworthy?

"The Sword of Zariel must be inside," she muttered, remembering her bargain to exchange the holy relic for Simon's safety. That act alone could damn her soul, but the alternative was even more unthinkable. She revved up the engine, hearing much fainter whines coming from the soul coin than before, and wondered if it would last the trip. But in this, too, she was left with no other options.

"Let's go."


	12. Worm in the Apple

The piteous moaning from the soul coin finally trailed into silence, and the hellrider coughed and sputtered before coming to a dead stop. Without the contraption's magical beams, the surrounding tunnels beneath the Scab fell into darkness, with the red glow from the Sword of Spinelli now their only source of light. Umpox still clutched the magical weapon in both hands, panting slightly from the effort of wielding it against the multitudes of demons that had tried attacking them. Each time the hellrider came across scattered clumps of them, it continued on its path without even slowing, crushing and tearing through the angry-looking fiends. Looking up at the armored werewolf seated in front of him, Umpox figured she probably hadn't even been worried about getting hurt. Her suit of black mail was even darker now, stained from splashes of demon ichor that had erupted from their victims as they died.

With a grunt, the paladin dismounted from the machine and looked around at their surroundings. "We need to keep moving or they'll catch up to us. Do you have idea idea how much farther it is?"

Umpox shook his head. He wasn't even sure what exactly they hoped to find down here. Devils were forbidden from discussing the Scab or even visiting the place. The only reason he was able to get away with coming along was because one of his hag mistresses - who _technically_ had direct and therefore higher authority over him - had ordered Umpox to go there. Mad Maggie _did_ mention wanting some kind of relic that had once belonged to the archdevil Zariel, however.

"Hey, what iffin yous focused your divine powers or whatever on finding dat holy sword?"

Her expression was concealed behind the dark visor, but Umpox could clearly hear frustration and a tinge of panic in her voice as she said, "No. I can't sense anything."

To the imp's surprise, however, he thought _he_ could feel a vague aura of something out of place, coming from directly above them. He flew up to the ceiling and followed a mysterious urge to prod it with his flaming weapon. The red fire around the blade began to intensify, and suddenly the rocky surface crumbled apart, revealing a pulsing wall of light that had been hidden underneath.

He saw the paladin fly up to him with her winged boots to get a better look. "The demons thought they could dig right under it, but this barrier isn't a dome, it's a sphere!" She then took the flamesword out of his hands and used it to poke at the light, which seemed only semi-solid.

Umpox sighed in disappointment. "So much for us gettin' inside it den. Well, _me_ at any rate. Maybe yous bein' a paladin an' all, will be able to make it through."

The armored werewolf shook her head. "I'm...I'm not sure I'm still worthy. I've had to make bad choices that forced me to stray from the Light. What if it doesn't let me in?"

Angry shouts could now be heard echoing from the tunnel. The demons were going to reach them soon. Umpox looked back up at his companion. "Either we takes our chances with _dat_ ting, or we gets torn ta pieces stayin' here. Take your pick!"

He could feel her troubled gaze rest on him. "But won't _you_ die for sure? Isn't there some way you could escape?"

Umpox grimaced. "Iffin' my mistresses care to, dey can bring me back. Havin' my body seared by holy light ain't fun, but neither is gettin' tormented by demons. Don't you fret none 'bout me, and don't fret none 'bout you neither. Maggie wouldn't have sent yous here iffin' she dint tink yous could make it."

The paladin resheathed her sword and hesitantly looked up at the sphere. "Don't fear the darkness," he heard her mutter to herself. Sensing her unease, Umpox followed yet another unfamiliar instinct, and took hold of one of her hands.

"On the count of three?" he suggested. She nodded, and he called out: "One... Two... THREE!"

They rushed for the surface. Umpox had one last impression of blinding pearlescent light filling his vision, and then there was nothing.

To Umpox's annoyance, there continued to be nothing for quite some time. _The hags decided not to bring me back_ he realized in dismay. Was this it, then? Had he been completely destroyed? Well on the bright side, he didn't remember feeling any pain. Of course maybe there _had_ been pain, but he had already forgotten. How long had he been floating around this place, anyway?

Then after what might have been seconds or perhaps an eternity, he began to see something. A tall four-winged creature emerged from the nothingness, though it was shrouded in holy radiance, such that Umpox wondered if it might be the actual source of blinding light around him.

**What are you doing here? The trials of this fortress were not intended for your kind**

Umpox had a sense that the being was addressing him, though he could not tell if its attention was actually on him. As he struggled to answer, a second shape manifested alongside him. This one he could see clearly, and it startled him to realize that it was someone he had met before. He would in fact have been hard pressed _not_ to recognize one of the clones that he had raised from the moment they had emerged from the Sewn Sisters' cauldron.

"If an angel can lose their soul, is it that hard to believe that a devil can gain one?" asked the newcomer, who was the spitting image of the clone named Diath.

The angel - and Umpox had to believe that that was who it was - then seemed to address the newcomer. **This matter does not concern you, Lorcatha**

"Well if this little guy is concerned, I'm afraid it does. You see, he has a contract that makes him part-owner of my soul. That means where he goes, I go."

Umpox struggled with this news. First of all, he had always been taught that clones had no souls. Yet somehow, the Strix clone had managed to make it to hell, and was now a hag and member of the Coven that Umpox was contracted with. His second issue was that he had no recollection of ever making a contract with the Diath clone. Was he _lying_ to the angel, and to what purpose?

**I see** answered the holy being, leaving Umpox dumbfounded. **Very well, you can go free, but you are not to interfere with the outcome of this test**

"We trust that Evelyn will succeed," said Diath calmly, and the holy figure vanished. As is did so, the surrounding light began to fade, until Umpox could see that he and the clone were now in the ruins of an old courtyard. Looking up, he spotted the dome of light shimmering overhead, and realized that he was now inside the barrier.

Turning to Diath in awe and no small amount of fatherly pride, Umpox told him, "I dunno know where a clone like you came up wit' dat lie, but yous did it! You managed ta trick an angel!"

"I didn't lie," the man replied with a frown. "And I'm _not_ a clone. You and I signed a contract; or at least, you and a fragment of my soul. Did you never stop to think about what the name 'Diath' means in ancient Infernal?"

Umpox looked at him blankly for a moment, then thought about the sounds "dee-ath". It lacked the extra vowels used in the archaic devil tongue, but if the sounds were cobbled together and spoken very loosely (a little how Umpox himself chose to speak Common), then it could very well be referring to the words 'divine shard'.

As the imp came to this realization, the appearance of the person beside him altered slightly, becoming feminine, but still with a strong resemblance to the clone he had known. Somehow, despite never having seen what lay beneath the dark rags she always wore, Umpox knew with dead certainty that this was his hag mistress's true form.

"What you see now is the original shape of my soul," she explained in Shard's voice. "A small piece of it was broken, to preserve the last Lorcatha soul in case the rest of it was taken. That soul fragment was then swallowed by a hag, taking its form in order to hide it from Asmodeus. I am revealing this to you now, so that you understand the significance of your contract. Shard herself does not know what she truly is, and Asmodeus _must not!_"

Umpox cringed at the mention of the lord of the Nine Hells. He himself was but a mere imp, far below Asmodeus's notice. Of course, this special soul could end up guaranteeing him a promotion, allowing Umpox to finally make a name for himself. Yet as he considered his future prospects in hell, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt about his mistress's fate. She had treated him well, all things considered, and he could read her heart well enough to know that she was a good person.

Wait a minute, why should that matter? And since when had he ever felt guilty about anything?

"Y'all tricked me!" he accused the specter of his mistress, realizing in horror what must have happened to him. "Your soul's been poisonin' me, giving me feelings!"

Before she could answer, Umpox felt a powerful force tug at him, calling him away. Knowing that it was not Shard, there was only one other who had the authority to summon him, even from this holy place.

Asmodeus himself.

* * *

A reverberating boom of thunder startled the three hags, causing them to turn in unison to stare at a darkening section of the blood-red Avernus sky.

"That can't be good," grumbled the oldest among them, squinting at the horizon before she pulled out the varnished eyeball that hung as a pendant around her neck. She stroked the treasured object and muttered what sounded like an incantation, before snarling in disgust and tucking it back into her leather bodice.

"I can't see anything. The Witch Network must be down!"

Strix turned worriedly to the others. "What if it's Asmodeus? Maybe he's finally onto us. We should move to somewhere safe!"

Mad Maggie snorted and shook her head. "There's nowhere safer than this oasis, honey. And don't forget, your paladin friend and that imp are supposed to return here to hand me Zariel's sword in exchange for the puppet's freedom."

Simon rotated his head 180 degrees as his gaze alternated between them. "Mahadi won't be happy that you tricked him. He won't stop looking until he's found me..._and you,_ and by now he's probably already told Asmodeus what happened."

Shard's eyes were still fixed on the roiling patch of sky. Her voice again took on a mystical quality as she intoned, "The Lord of Lies has gathered a great army. His goal is in sight."

Maggie grimaced and wrung her claws worriedly. "What could he be up to? He knows he can't open the portal without _all_ of the Lorcatha souls."

Strix's ears perked up at the familiar word, and she spun to face the crone. "_Shem_ has the last Lorcatha soul. You and the Shadow Council said he'd be safe as long as Asmodeus couldn't track him through me. That's the whole reason I did _this_ to myself!" she cried, motioning at her new form.

The Night Hag growled. "Those damn human prophecies got Asmodeus thinkin' he could rule the multiverse! Well it won't be today, honey. Some of us evil folk actually_ like_ the status quo, and we aren't about to let him interfere with our fun. We've got a trump card he doesn't even know about!"

Strix noticed that Maggie's beady eyes were now on Shard, but the latter seemed oblivious, her own gaze still fixed on the sky. The black-shrouded woman suddenly shouted out "Shem!" before wobbling unsteadily and almost losing her feet. Maggie was beside her in an instant to support her, but her screeching voice held no hint of compassion.

"What did you see? Does he_ know?!"_

Shard shook her head as if dispelling a vision. Rather than answer Maggie, her concerned eyes sought Strix's, and she mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."

Fear pierced Strix's heart. Asmodeus must have found Shem. He was a part of her, but more importantly, he was all she had left of Diath ...and now an evil deity was going take _him_ away from her, too. Such a loss mattered far more to Strix than whatever plan Asmodeus had to take over the planes.

"We need to go there and save him," said Strix resolutely. "Is there another hellrider we could use?"

Maggie folded her arms in front of her. "Your friend took the only one I brought with me. So I guess we're all stuck waiting here until she returns."

"Not unless we use your Heartstone," said Shard, giving the other hag a hard look. "Baba Yaga told me that night hags carry them, and use them to cross into the ethereal plane so they can cover large distances."

Strix looked at Shard in surprise. Despite all the years she herself had spent with her 'grandmother', she had barely been taught anything about hag lore. But come to think of it, she remembered the Sewn Sisters turning ethereal when they went to fetch the items for their trade.

Maggie recoiled. "You can't leave! You don't realize what's at stake!"

Shard narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the other hag. "If Asmodeus already has Shem, why does it matter whether or not we go?" The old crone bit her lip, however, apparently choosing to stay silent.

"You have no choice. It's two versus one, and the Law of the Coven demands you follow the majority's decision," Shard explained gravely. Strix came up behind her to show her support, trusting in her friend, even if she herself didn't really understand what was going on.

Mad Maggie produced a jet black jewel from one of her many pouches. With a snarl, she dropped it into Shard's open palm. "Fine then. After your paladin returned, I _was_ going to lead you all back to my fort where a very profitable business transaction with a new warlord named Jim something-or-other was going to take place. But I guess I'll just keep _all that money_ for myself," she mentioned casually, clearly hoping to tempt them into changing their minds.

The name 'Jim' triggered a knee-jerk reaction in Strix, but there was no way in hell it could be the same guy. The last time she had seen Jim Darkmagic was at the Cassalanter bank heist, and while she remembered there being a suspiciously large number of devils hanging about, Strix couldn't picture Omin sending his employees into Avernus. Acq Inc might be a rough company to work for at times, but even _they_ had limits.

Shard grabbed Strix's hand, and Strix felt Simon quickly grab her other one. When she looked down in askance at the puppet, he quickly answered, "No way am I sticking around here!"

As Shard seemed to focus on the jewel, all three of them noticed a dense fog begin forming around them. Strix had a vague deja vu feeling of when Marcus the monk had transported them through similar mists to Candlekeep. This time, however, there was no accompanying incantation, and no sense of movement.

"What now?" Strix asked, unnerved at seeing everything around her take on a misty shape. At least the beings on either side of her were still recognizable.

Simon sighed wistfully. "This reminds me of Barovia. Do you think it's connected somehow?"

A young voice suddenly spoke out from the fog, "Barovia is far away - but at the same time, not far at all. Distance matters little in this world."

Strix felt the grips of the hands holding hers tighten in alarm, but she herself was surprising unafraid as a familiar shape materialized in front of them. She instantly recognized the young Vistani ghost she had befriended in the mists of Barovia the one time she had died there.

"Jesper! You're here too?" She supposed it made sense, since the ethereal plane was also known as the land of ghosts.

The phantom boy peered at her curiously. "Strix, is that you? You seem different."

"It's me," she said reassuringly. She quickly introduced the others and explained to him, "We're trying to quickly reach my son, but we don't know how to get around this place. Do you think you can help us?"

Jesper nodded with growing excitement. "I think I was _meant_ to find you here. Our great seer, Madam Eva, visited me before I died and told me the strange doctor would not be able to cure me. She said that my soul was needed here, so that I could later help save my family."

His revelation confused Strix. "Your family? But we're not related, are we? Or are you another one of Rosie's kids?"

Jesper shook his head, his expression now serious. "Your son and my little brother are both in danger. You have to help them, Strix! You have to save Paultin!"

* * *

Paultin's brain was a jumble of disordered thoughts; a feeling that reminded him of being drunk. Unfortunately, whereas alcohol had the benefit of not letting you care about your troubles, right now he was all too aware of how everything in his life had literally 'gone to hell'. Not only did he learn that the wife he had mourned all these years (one of his main reasons for drinking in the first place) was in fact still alive, but that this truth had been hidden from him by his best friend, who had also tried to kill him only moments before before pulling a dick move and teleporting them both to some weird dimension that also happened to be on fire and full of devils.

Oh, and he also still heard the voice of Chris Perkins in his head, who was eager to remind Paultin that the fate of the entire world rested on his shoulders.

*You need to protect Shem at all costs. You can't let Asmodeus take him!*

Paultin grit his teeth. *You're a god, aren't you? Can't you just snap your fingers and fix all this?*

The voice sounded exasperated with him, as usual. *I'm all the way in the Far Realms! There are limits to what I can physically do on your plane of existence. And yet followers of the Sun God keep praying at me nonstop, expecting ridiculous miracles. I don't know how Lathander could stand it*

*You could always, you know, give the job back to him* Paultin suggested, wondering if this was how he might finally rid himself of his patron.

Chris Perkins seemed to pause in consideration. *He's still a prisoner of the Sanguilith, but you know, with a little help, the C Team might just manage to pull it off. Let me see what I can do on my end - can I trust you to hold down the fort while I'm gone?*

*Sure, whatever* Paultin projected, and he felt the presence in his mind fade away. Looking around, he then realized that things had deteriorated during the short span of his mental conversation. Squiddly's monkey had run off with Gutter, and Asmodeus himself had suddenly shown up out of nowhere. To make things worse, Paultin spotted an army of fiends gathered just outside the town, led by a tall female devil who strangely had wings and even a halo made entirely of fire. How on earth was Paultin supposed to deal with _that?_

"Body and soul - you boy - belong to me," said Asmodeus ominously. Paultin noted the terrified expression on Diath's son's face, and he glanced at the rogue to see if he would do anything. Diath had his arms folded out in front of him and was smirking in satisfaction. So much for help from that quarter.

With a sigh, Paultin pulled out the Sunsword. The enchanted weapon hated vampires, but how did it feel about devils? Weren't they sort of the same thing? He tried to think back to what he had skimmed over in van Richten's journal and whether there had been a chapter on fiends.

Asmodeus turned to look at him, but he seemed more annoyed than concerned. "Could you just let me enjoy this moment? I've been waiting a long time for this."

Paultin wondered if he should stall for time using some form of distraction, or if his enemy would offer him a freebie and start monologuing. As Asmodeus eyed him suspiciously, the bard began to slowly circle around him, holding the Sunsword defensively out in front of him. "You know, I'm a little insulted that you never _once_ came after my soul. I've had Strahd try to possess it multiple times, and then the Raven Queen started tempting me with gifts, and even a god from the Far Realms is currently renting space in my head. But I guess I'm still not good enough for _you,_ eh?"

The devil lord frowned. "It has to do with politics, you understand. Once you steal a soul from another deity, the Maruts begin showing up at your doorstep and then it's nonstop court appointments. While I don't mind the legal paperwork, torturing souls and plotting the extermination of demonkind _does_ keep me rather busy."

"I just feel like you're missing out on a great opportunity, here. I'm standing right in front of you, almost within your grasp, and you're just gonna let the chance to corrupt me slip away?"

Asmodeus narrowed his gaze. "If you're offering to take the boy's place, _no deal._ I need _all_ of the Lorcatha souls to get my army into the Upper Planes."

Paultin shook his head. "Nah man, I'm doing this for _myself._ I can see you have big things going on and are moving up in the world. Those other gods can bribe me all they want, but _you're_ the team I'd pick to sell my soul to. Thing is, I can sorta tell you're about to get real busy soon and might not have time for me after that, so if we're gonna do this deal, it sort of has to be right now."

Asmodeus looked back and forth between Shem and Paultin, seeming torn. "It's just... I am _so_ close to fulfilling my lifelong goal. Are you certain I can't give you a rain check?"

Paultin folded his arms. "I can't promise I'll be sticking around this place. I might even die in the next few minutes, and then my soul will be out of your reach forever. So what's it gonna be?"

The fiend sighed and grumbled something under its breath before snapping its fingers and shouting, "Zapan, come here at once!"

A cloud of smoke appeared in front of them, from which emerged a large horned devil wearing a sheepish expression. "Yes my lord?" it asked, wringing its claws nervously.

"This mortal has ties to the Dark Powers, the Raven Queen, and an upstart god from the Far Realms who took over after Lathander got banished. As my head of Immortal Diplomacy, I want you to draw up the paperwork to nullify those foreign contracts so that he can sign a new deal with us."

"What about me?" asked an angry voice behind him, and Paultin was startled to see that it was Diath. The rogue continued, "You're bending over backwards to appease this fool, yet neither him nor the Lorcatha would be here without me! And don't forget that_ I'm_ the one who researched Candlekeep's doomsday prophecies for you. Where is_ my_ reward?"

Zapan swiped a giant clawed hand at Diath before he could dodge, knocking him to the ground. "You dare address our lord directly!? You, a mere soul worm? Be grateful I don't crush you beneath my heel!"

The reference to soul worms stirred an almost forgotten memory in Paultin. He and his friends had signed a contract with the Sewn Sisters that had supposedly led to such a creature being implanted into them to save their souls upon death. Paultin _had _later died, disintegrated by the rays of a zombie beholder. He wasn't sure if that worm had really done anything to help, but after bring brought back to life, he sensed that the parasite was no longer there. As far as he knew, neither Strix nor Diath had been killed since then, so they likely still had those things wriggling inside them. Remembering Zapan's words, Paultin wondered if Diath's soul worm could have somehow taken control of him. That would certainly explain all of his odd behavior since his return.

The rogue rose slowly into a crouch, his eyes shooting daggers of hatred at Zapan. Paultin was not surprised when he sprang up with Moonspliter in his outstretched hand, ready to strike. But at the last second, Diath aimed his weapon instead at Paultin, who barely had time to parry the blow against the instantly summoned beam of the Sunsword.

"This is all _your_ fault," the fake Diath seethed. Paultin continued to hold his sword defensively in front of him, but was very aware of his exposed back. _Great, so now what?_ Whether this really was a soul worm, another doppleganger or even a clone, Paultin didn't want to risk killing it before he got some answers. He glanced at the devils to see if they would interfere, but they merely watched the two humans in amusement.

Very well, Paultin did still have_ one_ card up his his sleeve. Quickly drawing out the Bag of Holding at his waist, he aimed the opening at Diath and called out, "Trundleflops, I choose you!"

The magical rug flew out from the sack and wrapped itself around Diath, knocking him off his feet. Paultin tentatively approached the struggling mass and instructed in a low voice, "Just keep him busy for a while - but don't kill him."

Asmodeus nodded in approval. "Nicely done. Now then, as you can see, my employee is already putting together our contract, so I think I'll take this moment to 'get the party started', as they say." Before Paultin could react, Asmodeus had grabbed Shem by the neck and raised him up until they were at eye level. Almost at once, the devil dissolved into red mist and was absorbed into Shem's body. The tiefling gasped, then blinked as his eyes took on a scarlet glow.

"I've done it!" Shem crowed triumphantly, his voice now deep and resonant. "All of the Lorcatha souls are mine! By the ancient covenant forged between this family and the celestial hosts, I command a gateway to the heavens to open!" The possessed tiefling pointed at the sky near where the devil army waited. Paultin watched with others in anticipation of what might happen, but while they cheered, he anxiously wondered if he had just messed up their only chance at saving the multiverse.

After several moments passed without anything happening, the cheering died down, and Paultin could sense a dark cloud of anger emanating from Shem. The silence was broken by the sound of Zapan nervously clearing his throat.

"My lord, while we wait for the gateway that I am _certain_ will appear, I thought I should mention that there _was_ a small incident at the Scab earlier..."

Shem's gaze instantly turned to his subordinate. "The demons broke through?" he roared incredulously.

"Actually, no," said Zapan, and the fiend lowered his voice. Paultin, who like most bards had sharp hearing, had no trouble picking up his words. "A servant of Shar and an imp asked permission to pass. I warned them of the dangers but they were most _insistent_. Then, to my disbelief, the imp roused my forces as well as a passing pack of werewolves, and they all crossed the barrier and began decimating the demons on the other side."

Shem's gaze darted to his army and the winged archdevil at its head. "I cannot afford for Zariel to have a sudden shift in allegiance. I must be certain the Scab remains secure." The red glow of his eyes intensified, and in a thunderous voice, he called out, "Imp! I command you to appear!"

A small winged creature suddenly materialized next to Paultin. As it noticed him, it did a double-take and and cried out, _"You!"_

Somewhat taken aback by that reaction, Paultin narrowed his eyes and asked, "Do I _know_ you?"

Before the imp could answer, Zapan pointed to it excitedly and cried, "Yes, that's him! That's the one who talked my troops into abandoning their posts!"

Shem's eyes still burned, and with a look of great annoyance, he swatted at Zapan the same way the pit fiend had earlier swatted at Diath. Instead of tossing him to the ground, however, the move caused Zapan to burst into green flames and be quickly consumed until he was nothing but ashes.

Recognizing that this must be his master, the imp dropped immediately to the ground and lay prostrate before its lord. Shem sighed and prodded at the imp with his foot until it dared to raise its head. "His excuses were becoming tiresome. From what he told me, however, _you_ at least sound somewhat competent. Impress me, and I shall promote you to his place."

The little devil's jaw dropped, yet its expression revealed an inner conflict. Paultin figured this would be the opportunity of a lifetime for one of its kind, but its growing hesitation seemed to make Asmodeus suspicious. As Shem picked up the small fiend by the tail and began examining it closely, he muttered his observations aloud.

"What have you been hiding? A contract with a hag coven... yes, and it seems there are souls now bound to you. _Strix?!_ You would become a green hag just to escape me! And... what's this?"

There was a long pause of silence as Shem seemed taken aback by something. But while at first Paultin thought the devil lord looked troubled, the expression on his face gradually turned to excitement.

"Ah Shemeshka, your long-laid plans to thwart me are finally revealed! I know now the prize you demanded for mediating that trial, and where you have hidden it! All I have to do now is follow the tether this imp has with the soul piece and-"

A glowing sheet of parchment suddenly appeared in the air in front of the imp. Shem leaned down to examine it, but before he could read it, the little devil reached out with an open claw and slashed at the document, which immediately fragmented into a thousand pieces.

The devil lord looked shocked for a moment at the imp's blatant insubordination, but rather than lash out in fury, Shem loosed a roar of laughter.

"Little fool, your efforts are wasted! I have sensed your mistress, and she is rapidly approaching this place. It seems all I need do is wait here patiently, and the final Lorcatha soul will be mine!"


End file.
